#i genuinely love these two so much and need more misadventure of them

[jadequarze]

Stealing Imogen for a bit | Nice try Ashton

[apiratefellinlovewithastar]

https://www.tumblr.com/darlingjunebug/728466035752271872?source=share

it's skull, skull is the third party who gets involved bc he's the only who has the emotional intelligence to notice the problem and the lack of self preservation to put himself in the line of fire

There are some pros and cons to being a civilian suddenly thrust into not only the cursed mafia world, but also the cursed mafia world.

Pros: he gets paid to do what he loves—to play out his stunts in a setting where he doesn’t have to hold back so as to not to raise civilian suspicions about his condition, while also getting all of the acclaim when his subordinates genuinely shower him with it.

(Was it a mindfuck when some clown just showed up in his living room trying to reclute him? Yes. Is it dangerous? Yes. But if there’s anything the great Skull-sama loves, it’s a good challenge!)

Cons: once in a while he has to spend time in the vicinity of some less-than-desirable individuals, who consider him—him!—to be the less-than-desirable individual. The nerve!

(He’s not factoring Kawahira’s little misadventure, specifically, into this; getting turned into a toddler isn’t any weirder than being able to regenerate his body and coming back to life in his books.

Now that they’re out of the woods and he can laugh about it, he can begrudgingly admit—in the safety of his mind—that Checker Face did it for a noble cause, despite going about it in a not-so-hot fashion. If Skull were a millennia old being, he would play Russian roulette with some douchebags and give them body dysmorphia just for shits and giggles.

Skull will, however, complain about the acquaintances it left him with, as much as he wants, for as long as they’re assholes—which is shaping up to be for a very, very long time.)

The delightful but ultimately exasperating shit show that are one Sawada Tsunayoshi and Reborn-senpai does not fall into either of those categories, but in a secret, third, second-option-adjacent thing: idiots in love who, despite being more in sync with each other’s emotions than anyone could ever wish to be with their partner’s, couldn’t be more out of touch with their feelings if they tried. (And Skull has seen some paradoxes in his time, okay?)

All of this is relevant because, ultimately, despairingly, he’s gonna have to intervene. Jesus fucking Christ.

None of Tsuna’s little Elements, let alone any of Skull’s former colleagues—or anyone else who could, for that matter—is gonna do jack shit about it. They’re all either too emotionally constipated themselves, too scared of Reborn to dare going against him, or too willing to let them ‘go at their own pace’ (as if that will ever lead anywhere!).

So. It all falls into his hands to do something about it.

Does Skull win anything by meddling? Not in the slightest. On the contrary—

“I do not get paid enough for this shit,” Skull groans. “I do not get paid at all for this shit.”

If anything, he’s risking death by Reborn-senpai!

But he owes it to Tsuna, because despite being obviously influenced by Reborn in more ways than anyone would like, he has never, not even once, been unkind to Skull. Even before the whole Representative Battles happened—and that’s a whole other debt he needs to repay.

Unlike anybody else who has ever interacted with both Skull and Reborn, Tsuna has never once lacked basic human decency. (Skull wishes he had lacked basic human decency; he wouldn’t feel so morally obligated to protect the kid’s heart then.)

Enma pats his back in comfort when Skull hides his face in the other’s shoulder. Earnestly, he says, “I think you’re doing something truly honorable, senpai,” because he’s seen those two and knows what Skull has to deal with; more so than Skull, actually, because while Skull can just fuck-off whenever they get unbearable, Enma lives here and still has to interact with them on a daily basis.

What the fuck.

Skull raises his head long enough to look at him. “How do you deal with it, Enma-kun?”

Like the true child soldier he is—and he’s not gonna open that can of worms at the moment; Jesus, why did he even have to think about it?! One emotional crisis at a time, please!—Enma stares off into space before solemnly saying, “I grew up with Adel and Julie,” like that answers anything.

It kinda does, funnily enough.

“Ne, ne, Enma-kun,” Skull wheedles, getting an idea.

But Enma shakes his head, smiling apologetically before he can even say anything else. “I can’t help you with this,” he says, soothing the sting of his betrayal by running gentle fingers through Skull’s nape. “I grew up with Adel and Julie,” he reiterates meaningfully.

It takes Skull a moment.

“That bitch,” he says with an offended gasp. “She told you not to get involved, didn’t she?!”

Enma tugs gently at a lock in reproach. “Be nice to my sister.”

Skull pouts. Enma’s eyes soften. The fond amusement in his expression makes Skull’s stomach flutter.

(Maybe he has indigestion or something? He’ll have to pick up some Otha’s Isan on his way back.)

“If it makes you feel better, I will cheer you on every step of the way, okay? So hang in there, senpai.”

That does make him feel better.

If nothing else, Skull will at least have a cute little kouhai to come back to and be comforted by when this inevitably blows up on his face.

“Well,” Skull says, revisiting his earlier thoughts. He leans into Enma’s touch, feeling rejuvenated. “If there’s anything the great Skull-sama loves, it’s a good challenge!”

[aroace-polyshow]

This is the fic i was reading: defining love by tinkonka. have i finished it? no. apologies if it takes a weird turn. however, i present two pieces of YEHFDKSKJKLFJSDLKFS: 1. implied arospec rui and 2. the most BASED emurui takes ive seen in my whole entire life.

and for completionist's sake, here's a few more fics i have bookmarked, in no particular order!!

poor communication kills by HakaiEve: THE og aroace wxs fic. also recommend their other wxs works too because they get them. (also i think they have a tumblr with some aroace wxs art, if you haven't seen it yet!)

ikanaide by Gummysaur: maybe im just a sucker for sick fics and poetic language but. they all just care about their idiot troupe leader so much.... there's another one by them with the reverse plot of tsukasa taking care of emuruinene too that i remember relating to quite a bit!

the study of the sky, the sun, the star, and the moon by JadeMeraki: MY FAVORITE SERIES OF ALL TIME THE LANGUAGE THE HEADCANONS THE ABSOLUTELY UNFILTERED RAW TAKES i love this characterization and have accepted every word into my personal canon. i love this.

and by the same author, with hope: rui writing letters to his future self. im genuinely not ok reading this fic. the crossed out lines. the language. the despair and the hope that defines rui's core. this fic inspired me to write my own journal.

polysho nails by nonchalantatall: to be perfectly honest i do not remember this fic but 1. miracle paint reference 2. acey's favorite band reference (ajr) and 3. i must have saved it for a reason so now you will figure that out

How to Be Free by SkylerHyrule: VBS FANTASY AU (featuring the one and only tenma tsukasa and co). looooooove the way this is written and also this author understands vbs so well. really fun akian interactions too, a rarity in the field. If you like vbs i would also recommend their Misadventures of VBS's Clothes!

Infinity Spectrum by kjcoded: mizuki focused fic! the way this author describes gender stares directly into your soul and gives feelings you didn't even know you had a voice. i think about some of the lines in this daily.

Disparate Threads by MiyoatThePineapple: a little tsukasa-focused poem on creation and loving your friends a whole great deal :) (i am a sucker for poetic language)

if you're ever tired of being known for who you know (you know, you'll always know me) by dizzi_dizzy: like it says on the tin, tsukasa through ichika's eyes. it has been a while since i read it but again. bookmarked it for a reason. i think it had some great language on the passage of time?

july 27th, 2015 by anonymous: i left a comment here about dragonfly symbolism and characterization. i think that's all i need to say about it actually. yeah. loved it.

that was... a lot more than i thought i had. lol. anyways. book club!

ourgh saving all of these to my marked later thank you so much acey i will have so much to read. if i remember some bookmarked fics in particular that i really liked i will recommend them to you as well. book club!!!!!!! :3

[the-somewhat-rambling-reviewer]

Thoughts on Plus-Sized Misadventures in Love!

I just finished the series, and I loved. I stumbled across it on Viki, and when I read that the heroine losing weight wasn't part of it, I decided to give it a try.

I hope Ueda Kanade gets another main role soon. The difference between Koda pre and post-amnesia is so stark in both appearance in mannerisms. Ueda largely brings the comedy, but when the role calls for dramatic subtlety, she absolutely delivers.

Also, I keep being impressed by Kusakawa Takuya. He did such a good job playing a largely oblivious goofball in Cherry Magic that I was surprised at how much depth he brought to Minato in Minato's Coin Laundry. Here, his performance is even more subtle and subdued most of the time, and he does it so well.

On another note, he isn't the type of actor who drastically changes his appearance for every role, but so far, I've been impressed with him/whoever's styling him for his roles. Rokkaku largely looked like a newbie businessman who wore suits his personality didn't quite inhabit; Minato looked largely like a surfer dude, someone who would own a laundry mat; and here, whenever Keisuke, not Takuya, was playing a role, he largely succeeded in looking like a young but rising serious businessman.

For some reason, I was suspicious of Hiroki, but I was wrong. It was nice to see him so easily accept Koda once her memories returned. Unlike Tamai and the others, he never knew her before her personality transformation, and unlike them and Keisuke, he didn't have the framework to be worried. I believe, if he'd met Koda pre-amensia, he might not have been as in awe of her, but I think he might have been genuinely nice to her and respected her as a coworker.

There's nothing explicitly supernatural about the show, but it's possible to read that something benevolent did takeover Koda's body until it was time for her to come back. Her surviving the fall with minimal injuries wasn't likely, but there have been real life cases of people surviving normally fatal falls with a surprising lack of serious injury.

As she lay potentially dying, she wished for a cheerful personality and an adorable body, and so, the person who woke up was cheerful and immediately appreciated the adorableness of her body. This person wrote her encouraging notes, made friends for her, and possibly, saved two lives.

I'm not convinced Keisuke wouldn't have ended up going over that roof himself if not for first, someone from Planning (Koda) showed up, and aside from making him briefly nostalgically happy, he realised, oh, other people might come up here. Then, Goddess Koda showed up at his new spot, and she became his friend.

I did love when Koda, upon discovering the pictures, immediately wondered in horror if she were stalker. And yeah. Pre-amnesia Koda wasn't malevolent, but taking pictures of an essential stranger without their knowledge and consent is creepy; there are only a few instances where it can be justified.

Of course, being a comedy, this didn't really go anywhere.

It's kind of interesting to consider how much pre-amnesia Koda's feelings towards Keisuke were just the result of her idolising someone societally acceptable due to her extreme lack of self-worth. Because, he was briefly nice to her, he was handsome, and that was pretty much it.

Whereas, amnesiac Koda was taken by his handsomeness, but she also recognised his hurt and vulnerability. She truly got to know him, good and bad, as a person.

I wish there had been a kiss.

When it comes to male/male stories, it used to be prevalent to have to sides: Those who said a kiss wasn't needed to show two people were in love, and those who were annoyed the same physical affection a straight couple would give wasn't shown.

I fall in the middle. No, a kiss isn't needed, but it'd be nice if a couple was shown having that bit of physical affection.

I don't know anything about the show in regardless to production and so on. Based on the performances alone, I don't think having a plus-sized lead and a more conventionally attractive one was the reason for no kiss, but then, there have been male actors who have expertly sold their character as being bi/gay/in love with another male character but refused to kiss another male.

I do know Takuya has kissed on-screen before, but I don't know if Ueda has or not. If she didn't feel comfortable kissing, I'm not going to object to there not being a kiss.

But anyway, this aside, I'm not sure how I feel about the ending in general.

I don't think Keisuke necessarily prefers Goddess Koda to regular Koda, but I also don't think he'll take any extreme measures to get the latter back.

Though, if the latter does come back, and there's no real indication of this, but I imagine everyone being, here, Koda, have these numerous flat shoes to choose from, please, never wear anything with a heel. Koda, please, don't ever run. Could we get thick carpet in the office? I know you're just going for a walk, Koda, but maybe wear this helmet?

Thanks to everyone who read.

[pegglefan69]

Tony

Madder Red, Yeasayer

“Never gave a thought to an honorable living / always had sense enough to lie / It’s getting hard to keep pretending / I’m worth your time”

Okay the book he’s from is getting rebooted + I have to essentially get myself reacquainted with everybody so this is less complex BUT:

Anthony claims a lot of things– that he’s an expert at several different types of cards, preternaturally lucky at games of chance, a temporarily down on his luck young man in need of just a small bit of sympathy (& perhaps a coin or two) from a wonderful, upstanding person such as yourself, the errant son of a Duke, & also, that John is his True Love.

John knows for certain that the first three are outright lies, & no matter how much Anthony insists otherwise, he refuses to believe him about the last two. If he was actually Lord Anthony of Wherever then surely he'd have run back home at the first sign of trouble, not ended up a down & out swindler in serious need of rescuing & a new, significantly more dangerous career. Maybe he does have an unusually large amount of useful knowledge when it comes to which members of the peerage are dangerous prey for a pair of highwaymen, but Anthony is one of the worst gossipmongers in all of England, & the working girls he’s such an affectionate & frequent companion of are definitely where he’s getting his info, right?

Speaking of Anthony's lady friends– if John is his True Love, then why hasn't Anthony stopped the reassurances that John can have any man he wants as long as Anthony has his heart, & backed up the grand pronouncements of bone-achingly deep feelings by being a similarly affectionate companion to him.

No, John isn't jealous & actually mortally afraid of being the recipient of romantic gestures, & it totally isn't easier for him to think that Anthony’s naively head over heels in lust instead of somebody who genuinely loves him. Yes, Anthony has yet to find the right words or actions to convince John that his feelings are real ones. He'd thought that keeping a steadfast heart & trying his best not to accidentally get them torn apart by ghosts or invited to the gallows would be enough, but his conviction’s started to sour.

Madder Red isn't a song I think of as something that he’d ever directly say to John, but it is absolutely what is going through his head in the lead-up to the colossal misadventure that results in both their breakup & the curse tying them together at the beginning of the book. 

[acacia-may]

Phew, ok... I don't know if you know this Fairy Tail ship, since it's more in the anime, only a bit thoug, but I really love Erik/Cobra x Kinana. One of my fav ships in FT, honestly, so can I reqest them? 💚💝🤍 would be nice, but you don't need to do them if you don't like it.

Thank you so much for the ask, Anon, and for being so sweet & polite💕 Oh my goodness! I think I may have genuinely squealed when I saw this in my inbox because I love these two so much!! 🥰 I have a tendency to get really attached to side characters and also ships between side characters (when I do get into shipping), and honestly, I was just telling my sister over the weekend that Erik/Kinana might rank in my Top 5 favorite Fairy Tail ships. I never imagined that I would get asked to write for them though so I'm seriously giddy right now--really, getting to write these for you has made my whole day!! 💖 I hope you'll like what I've come up with!

Questions from this "Bye Bye Writer's Block" Ask Game

Kinabra [Erik/Cobra x Kinana] Headcanons

💚-- General

Kinana is an amazing cook and loves making Erik's favorite foods for him. He is so touched by how she always remembers what foods he likes best and makes his favorite meals, and he takes it upon himself to try to return the favor. He knows many of the foods Kinana likes but also asks some of her friends for suggestions in case he's missing out on any; then, with the help of some of his friends in Crime Sorcière, Erik practices cooking the dishes so he can prepare a special meal of all of her favorite things. He's not nearly as talented a cook as Kinana is and has a couple of failed attempts, but in the end, however, he does become a fairly decent chef and gets a surprise Kinana with her special meal. She's so shocked and touched by the gesture and, to this day, swears it was the best meal she had ever had.

💝-- Future

After they have married and have decided they are ready to raise a family together, Erik and Kinana choose to retire to a quiet life in countryside, and they live out the rest of their days together on a big farm with their many children (both biological and adopted) who they love very much. There is never a dull moment in their house from the laughter and misadventures of their often rambunctious brood, the chaos of lots of animals their kids have a tendency to bring home as "pets", and the unexpected visits of their Crime Sorcière/(Former)Oración Seis and Fairy Tail found families. Though they always make time to spend together with their children as a family, they go out of their way to spend time just the two of them as well--even if it's just doing household chores around their home together. For instance, Erik always loves to do dishes with Kinana because she'll hum (absentmindedly/without realizing it) while she washes them, and he thinks this is adorable.

[A/N: My sister and I have this running joke that there is always that one ship that you can just imagine settling down in the country and having a big family and life of domestic bliss together, and I've always felt from the minute this ship was even hinted at that they were that ship in Fairy Tail. I love them so much and think they deserve a soft, domestic ending after everything they've both been through!]

🤍-- Fluff

Kinana often gets cold (perhaps a symptom of all that time she spent as a snake), but as a Dragon Slayer, Erik tends to be fairly warm so he will often cuddle up next to her, wrap his arms around her, and pull her into his chest to warm her up. When they are out walking on chilly days, he will always give her his jacket, and in the winters, they love to curl up by the fireplace together.

Bonus (completely unrelated but I think these two deserve more fluff): For Erik's birthday the first year they are in a relationship, Kinana knits him socks little snakes on them. He loves them, but he only wears them on special occasions so they won't get worn or ragged. It always brings the brightest smile to Kinana's face when she sees him wearing them though. They are their children's favorite socks too, and Kinana eventually makes matching pairs for their whole family (though they are all slightly different). One year they get a family picture taking of them all wearing the matching snake-patterned socks, and it has been hanging up over Erik and Kinana's fireplace ever since.

[themonotonysyndrome]

i think u made a hc that angel is physically protective over david, they know how to fight and were a delinquent in their school days. IS IT OKAY TO ASK IF WE CAN HAVE SOME MORE HCS ABOUT THAT I REALLY LIKE IT

Oh, yes! I did it a while back, Anon. It was one of my first attempts at writing something for the Redacted fandom; I had a lot of fun with it!

So it's more than OK to ask about Badass!Angel, Anon! Let's get to it.

Badass!Angel Headcanons:

Growing up, Angel was a scrappy kid. They have too much energy within them and the constant absence of parents in their lives drove Angel to seek some excitement in their boring everyday routine.

It wasn't long until Angel fall into the wrong sort of crowd.

Hell, they'd even stayed in a gang group for a couple of years after graduation.

Angel was the kind of delinquent that loved their bike that they earned from winning fight bets while saving the leftover for a tattoo, smokes when they can't sleep or stress and an enjoy the thrills of pickpocketing.

However, unlike the rest of the gang members, Angel wasn't as bulky or huge. So they had to learn the hard way on compensating for their lack of muscle strength to a more flexible style of fighting with what their body could do.

Over time, Angel becomes really good at measuring their strength behind every punch and kick they deliver. Sure, they won't ever be as strong as David or any of his Wolves but against Unempowered men, that's twice their size? Yeah, they can knock a person out.

So once they entered university, Angel settles down quite a lot once their parents genuinely put in the effort to mend bridges with them. It also helps that Angel found a new passion for numbers (as boring as it is)

By the time they met David, Angel has completely put aside their delinquent past to focus on a happier future with him.

Though Angel still can't shake their habit of being protective towards their loved ones.

David often takes the high road when it comes to Unempowered humans but behind his back? Angel is 100% ready to ride or die for him. Always.

If someone is purposely annoying David while they were grocery shopping? Angel would kick the offender's kneecap until it broke behind a deserted aisle before pestering their Mate into allowing some junk foods in the house.

A bitch snatched the parking spot that David has been patiently waiting for? Her tires are getting slashed.

Also, while still being their dumbass self, they totally forgot to tell David about their past until they give a jerk who was getting physically aggressive towards him a swollen, ugly purple cheek.

Angel tried to play it cool afterwards but David is having none of it. So they spend a night spilling their misadventures to a gobsmacked Alpha Werewolf.

David is internally humbled that Angel is fiercely protective of him and he of them but he quickly assured their Mate that there are ways not to resort to violence at the slightest inconvenience that he encountered.

Good god, David doesn't need a second version of his Tanker.

Angel pouts but David just narrows his eyes at them. He's working on curbing Angel of this habit.

Speaking of which, Darling/Tanker would definitely have heard of Angel.

Now David has two over-enthusiastic people that he needs to keep an eye on before he's slapped with a lawsuit.

[astaroth1357]

Lucifer? I Shrunk the MC…

I thought of the title and was like, “And I’m gonna not do anything with that?” Experimenting with format. Feel this one is a hot mess but, oh well, it was fun to write and that's what I care about.

Scene: 

Satan scrambles around his room, knocking over stacks of books and flinging others this way and that. All the while he can't quite stop himself from rambling, "Okay, don't panic. I know I can fix this. I have a spellbook around here somewhere… No, not this shelf… Hold on."

Meanwhile, MC is sitting on the pillow to his bed, practically engulfed in it because they're now only 3 inches tall. The result of yet another enchanted book mishap. This time it was an old tome left on the ground that they happened to trip over. As they watch Satan shuffle urgently through his bookshelves, they sigh and prepare themselves for yet another misadventure. It took five days for the last enchantment to wear off so they may as well get comfy…

"Take your time…"

Reactions:

Lucifer

His immense displeasure about the whole debacle cannot be understated.

Honestly, why doesn't Satan take better care of his things?? He should at least try to keep the powerful items out of the walkways!

Gets into a 3 hour screaming match when he sets Satan's punishment as giving a fourth of his book collection to the school library. Fully expects to find his things "mysteriously" cursed for the next few months.

He does find tiny!MC pretty amusing though.

If he thought they were fragile and helpless before well… now they can hardly lift a fork.

Makes triple sure that his brothers understand that if they're not careful with them, punishments will be extra severe.

Quadruple sure with Mammon.

Doesn't mind carrying tiny!MC places, mostly on his shoulder.

Lets them whisper jokes and funny asides in his ear during particularly dry meetings.

Mammon

First, he laughed because this shit is funny. Not only did Satan fuck up but the MC is now the size of his index finger! He could punt them like a paper football! (not that he ever would)

Next, he immediately starts trying to figure out how to use their new size in his schemes. He's talkin' infiltration baby!

Whether or not tiny!MC goes along with his less-than-legal ideas, he sort of loves that they're so small now anyway.

1) He can carry them around on his head or on his shoulder which is just convenient AND highlights that they're his to other people even more.

2) Watching them trying to do normal things is just hilarious! They get winded from just trying to use a pencil to write a sentence on normal sized paper.

3) Will never admit it, but the feeling of their tiny little arms hugging his cheek is one of those things he never knew he needed until now.

Leviathan 

Almost choked on his drink when Mammon plopped tiny!MC on his computer desk.

It was like someone made a little figurine of them! But this one could also walk around and say nice things to him!!

A little disappointed that it's practically impossible for them to play games like this, I mean they're smaller than the controllers.

Totally makes up for it by getting them to pose with his figurines. He never thought he'd be able to get a snapshot of MC and Ruri-chan together like that! It almost makes his figure look life-sized! If only… 

Lays a pillow on his lap and lets them nap on it while he games. Can never bring himself to wake them up so he'll stay in place long past the point of being comfortable just so they can sleep soundly.

Didn't notice he accidentally knocked them over into a Beel-sized popcorn bowl (which is more like a popcorn cauldron) while they were having an anime marathon. It took five minutes to hear their little shouts and he had to fish them out. Thanked their father that Beel hadn't actually joined in that night because they may have been gobbled up….

Satan

Is really, truly, genuinely sorry that he shrunk the MC...still thinks it's bullshit that he has to give away his books though.

Tries to make up for his mistake by helping them with whatever they need. He'll take notes for them in class, prepare finger food so that they have more manageable portions, and does all the "heavy lifting" for them when he can.

Continues to assure them that the spell is only temporary but also consults Solomon and pours over as many books that he can find on the subject just to make sure. He loses a bit of sleep over this.

Is the first to step in if he feels like his brothers aren't being careful enough around them. He already feels terrible that he got them into this mess, the last thing he wants is to see them get hurt over it too.

Treats them extra gentle, like they're made porcelain, the entire time. He won't hold them with a clenched fist so he lets them sit or lounge on his palm when they travel.

Chucked Levi out a window and into a tree after he heard about the popcorn incident.

Asmodeus

Adores tiny!MC, they're so freaking cute like this!!

Takes it upon himself to help them with the more intimate things, like how are they going to bathe or change clothes??

Goes out and buys a bunch of doll furniture and tiny outfits like this whole thing won't just wear off in a few days.

Pretty much sets up a little dollhouse in his room for them to use when they just want to be around things their own size.

Takes a shit ton of pictures though, them trying on the outfits, using the furniture, just being super smol and adorable, it doesn't matter he is all over this!

Lives for tiny kisses. It's like getting brushed by a feather on your cheeks, nose, and fingers!

Beelzebub 

Would die for tiny!MC in a heartbeat and is not ashamed to admit it.

He saw them happily chowing down on a grape about the size of their head and that was it. He was done. Ready sign his life away to this bite-sized human being.

Loves to bring them tiny snacks or break off a piece of what he's eating and watch them try to eat it. All food looks so much bigger in their little hands that he briefly considers having Satan shrink him too. Belphie talks him out of it, something about the blackhole in his stomach collapsing in on itself...

Was really cautious with them at first, though, considering he was already a lot stronger than they were to start with and suddenly they got a lot more fragile. But the MC eventually assures him that they have faith he won't hurt them.

Still the most anxious of the brothers about it. He always makes sure to watch where he's going, triple check beneath his feet, and slow the pace of his eating down enough to process what goes in his mouth BEFORE it gets there.

Is also glad he wasn't there for the popcorn incident. And got Levi out of that tree.

Belphegor 

Very conflicted about it honestly. On one hand, they're too small to sleep with anymore. He could roll over and suffocate them. But on another they're just so… cute.

...And so terribly easy to mess with now. He could knock them over if he blows hard enough, never mind poking them.

One morning he was feeling particularly malicious and put their little shoes at the other end of the dining room table. That amounted to like a two-mile jog for them. He couldn’t help but laugh at their tiny fists hitting his palm when they finally got there.

After Satan cursed his favorite pillow to scream every time he put his head on it he stopped being so mean.

Made up with the MC by sacrificing some of his pillow stuffing in order to make them a tiny bed he could carry around. If he couldn't sleep with them, he could at least sleep near them.

When that wasn't enough they made him do laps around the House with Beel. It was around the time that he was about to collapse into the flowerbeds that they found Levi dangling from that tree. He'd have laughed if his sides weren't already splitting… So much... running...

[dballzposting]

If Trunks is the president of Capsule Corp then I think that he should hire Goten for some small job, like the mailman for the building, becasue Goten really begs him for it and says that it wouod really help him out a ton bc he was having trouble keeping a job down and his mother was growing increasingly frustrated with him.

So Trunks throws him a bone and lets him be the mailman and Goten sort of sucks at it but people LOVE him and he really livens up the place. Hes sort of bad at reading the envelopes and remembering where they go but once he does have them sorted he gets to walk down the cubicle aisles and hurl mail at people and they all love him. He has a great presence and is very charismatic and kind and is overall a lot of fun. He'll stick around for a conversation and theres always a laugh. So the delivery is sort of slow and the accuracy sort of spotty but everybody cherishes him too much to care.

The one thing though is that Goten is very transparent and one-faced and he cant lie and feels no need to, and he cant really keep his mouth shut about anything either. So within the first two days Everybody in the building knows that hes the childhood best friend of their cute new young president and that's why he has the job. The reception ranges from "Awwww so cute <3" to "what they're best friends and he only have him a mailman job :/ Well whatever I'm glad hes here hes so fun."

And in the first week everybody has heard some story from Goten about one of he and Trunks's misadventures, or some embarassing story or info about Trunks, or just information about Trunks that isnt quite embarrassing but is still way too personal for a workplace environment.

And it's starting to affect Trunks's reputation. His authority was already questionable due to his age and low patience for bureaucracy, and now that everybody knows about the time that he had the shits while at the beach, or the time that he cried at the movie theater, or the times that he lost to Goten while sparring - Well, Trunks is starting to feel like nobody is taking him seriously. He walks through the halls and while the ladies still oggle him, theres less admiration, and more of the feeling that they want to pinch his cheeks. The men dont defer to his authoritative presence anymore, instead acting chummy or like they're older and therefore wiser than him.

One day there is a distinct commotion on one floor of the office, and when Trunks goes to check it out, Goten is regaling everybody with yet another story. The diligent office space had turned into a pit of comradery. When Trunks shows up people start waving at him and laughing amongst themselves and pretending to work, and when Goten sees him he does what Trunks thinks is the worst thing that he has ever done. Caught up in the atmosphere, he stands up off of the mail cart and announces to the room "HEY! TRUNKS-CHAN IS HERE!!" with open arms, as if for a hug.

Trunks just goes up to him and asks, through gritted teeth, if he could see him in his office. His face is flushed but he is holding his composure, becasue he cannot just commit a murder in front of his employees like this.

Goten is genuinely excited. Hes like "WH- HAVE I BEEN SUMMONED? IVE BEEN SUMMOMED!!" becasue he had never really worked a job before that involved summoning, and he would occasionally encounter other people in elevators and stuff who had "been summoned" and were on their way to a different part of the building, and he always let it be known that he was jealous. People would tell him that it wasnt always a good thing, but he would shake his head, saying it was the principle of the thing, and that he was jealous anyway.

He tries to wrap his arm around Trunks's waist 3 times in a row, Trunks quickly rebuffing it every time. And now they're walking to the elevator and Goten is hopping around telling everybody that hes been summoned, and nobody is worried becasue they all know that Goten and Trunks are best friends. At some point Goten puts his hands on Trunks's shoulders like it's a two-man congo-line .

In his office Trunks just tells him that if he doesnt stop his bullshit then hes fired. Goten is like HUH????? WHA????? and Trunks tells him that this is a professional environment and that HIS REPUTATION IS ON THE LINE...! Goten is like "I thought you hated this job" and Trunks is like "That's beside the point."

So basically Goten has to stop filling the cubicles with cajolery and comradery and basically he has to keep Trunks's name out of his mouth or hes FIRED.

But Goten is very transparent so he starts pushing the mail cart through the halls very sadly and slowly like a miserable creature of sorts, slouching and tossing mail lackadaiscally. His fans ask him what's wrong and he tells them that if he doesnt stop fooling around, hes lost his job.

This causes Trunks's reputation to take a dramatic plunge, becasue everybody LOVES Goten the mailman, and everybody is AGHAST that he would EVER give his best friend an ultimatum like that.

I actually domt know how this is suppsoed to end. Sorry that I cant do a read-more on mobile guys

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Ron was right

Theo Nott x Reader

W.C. : 3043

Requestd by @herstory-study​:  Ok I kid you not(t) another idea just popped into my head.. I hope you like it... the gist of it is Theo and the reader have that relationship where they are best friends but also dating but nobody can tell bc they’ve always been super close so I imagine like a bunch of pple (including the twins) have placed bets on whether or not they are dating and I just imagine one day they come back from a date and pple in the background are either groaning/cheering cause they got $ u can take it from there

A/N: I hope you like it, Puff! Feedbak and reblogs are very aprecciated. Happy reading.

*Not my GIF. Credit to the creator.*

It had been a quiet day the first time Theo noticed you. Grey clouds move fast in the evening sky, the light breeze comfortable for every student out in the courtyard to show their house pride and wear their scarves around their necks. His friends talked about the Golden trio and what had they done that week to ruin their mood. Nothing new really. Theo never added much to those conversations, what was the point of complaining about something when you could ignore it. He too was bothered by Potter and his friends adventures and misadventures, but Draco and his friends weren’t the target. But that was just the way Theo saw it.

“Wait until I write my father,” grumbled Draco, sitting in the middle of the bench where Theo had been sitting with Blaise. “ Potter is going to regret it.” he said with a huff.

Pansy arrived just a second after he ended rambling, rolling his eyes as she sat on the grass without a care about her robes. She gave a pleading look at the other boys as she cocked her head towards the Slytherin prince. When neither one of them said anything she scoffed glaring daggers at both before she smirked “Draco darling, Why don’t you tell Blaise and Theo here what Potter did. I’m sure they’d love to hear it.”

Blaise’s protest died down on his tongue when Theo shut his book close “No need.” he said, looking straight in Pansy’s eyes “We saw it all.” 

And it was true, it was hard to miss one of their disputes when they shouted at each other, standing at opposite extremes of the hall as the crowd gathered to witness the latest drama between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

“Doesn’t matter if they know.” Draco said desperately, leaning to rest his arms on his knees “I already have a plan for them to know their place. And plan B in case that one doesn’t work.”

“Maybe you should try plan D for dumbass.” 

They all turned around to the large tree, their gazes lowering to the base of it. There you sat, an annoyed look on your face as you straightened your robes and stood. Your movements were sharp, taking your bag on your shoulder as you stormed away from them, all of them in a state of shock to even try to stop you. 

 “Who does she think she is.” muttered Draco, already jumping to his feet when Theo placed a hand on his chest.

“Leave this one to me.” he said lowly, his eyes never leaving your form as you walked away. Draco hesitated but gave him a slow nod as he sat back down. 

Theo smiled triumphantly, hiding his face quickly so no one would see him and his true feelings. He took off and ran after you, keeping enough distance so you would walk away from the eyes of his friends. 

He kept running, your back facing him as he came to a halt. “Hey!” he yelled, your eyes glancing back at him as you picked up your pace. “Wait, stop.” he yelled again, catching up with you as he stopped in front of you. 

“What?” you said sharply, looking down at his hunched form as he breathed heavily. You raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over just your chest as you leaned back. “ Don’t tell me, Draco sent you to do his dirty work?”

“You…” he smiled, trying to keep in a laugh as he shook his head “You just called him a dumbass.”

You frowned, taking in the boy in front of you. Well kept brown hair, milky skin and the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen, his smile reaching his eyes as he stood to his full height. 

“Aren’t you his friend or something?” you asked confused.

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around. “Even I can get annoyed at him.” 

You squinted your eyes, eyeing the boy before you looked up at him “Who are you?”   

He extended his hand with a smile, one you hesitantly took “Theodore Nott, but everyone calls me Theo.”

You raised both your eyebrows, shaking his hand with a nod “Right.” you said “Well, if you’re not here to avenge your friend…”

“I’m not.” he smiled as you mirrored his look.

“Maybe you’re not a dumbass.” you told him, staring into each other's eyes before you realized you had been in silence for too long “I’m going now.” you turned on your heel, resuming your walk to a more quiet zone where Slytherins weren’t complaining when his voice made you stop.

“You didn’t tell me your name!” 

You turned to see him with a smile, a glint in your eyes as you said “Goodbye, Theo.” He stared at you as you disappeared in the halls of the castle, breathing out a laugh as he returned to his friends.  

It was difficult to not think about you after that. Your two minute interaction had him wondering more about you, who you were, what did you like. He started to pay more attention to you after that. 

He thought getting your name wouldn’t have been a difficult task. He felt like the detective he read about when he was younger, sneaking in the middle of the night to behind his father’s back to read the muggle novel he got his hands on not a while ago, reading until his eyelids could barely stay open with only the moonlight to accompany him. He wanted to feel the rush of Sherlock Holmes, and he wanted you to be John Watson. But as he actually tried to get something about you without interacting with you he realized why everyone praised Holmes so much, it wasn’t an easy job.

You always seemed to be with someone, but in utter silence. Muttering a few words with the people around you as you always had something better to do. You were the mystery he couldn’t get out of his head, the thought that kept him up at night, the dream that had him drifting away as his friends talked. He wanted the honor of being your friend.

****************************************

You worked on your herbology research, a pile of dusty books at your left side as you read the one opened before you. Your study partner was someone gathering more information, probably found someone and got stuck in the chat. Nothing new, really. You were used to initiating the study date with your partner and ending it alone. 

You felt someone walking behind your back. Expecting to hear your partner’s voice, your head snapped up at the sound of someone else.

“So,” said Theo Nott, taking the chair next to yours with a proud smile on his face “How are you, Y/N?”

You dropped your quill on the table, tilting your head with a curious look “Who told you my name?” you asked.

“It’s written on your parchment.” he pointed towards your handwriting on the upper part of the paper. “I got to say, it was difficult. Not many people really know you, you're like a ghost in the castle.”

“Maybe to the people you asked, I am very well known here.” you said daringly, and he nodded. “Well you know my name, you can leave now.” You took your quill back up, following the line you were previously reading with your finger when the thudding sound against the table made you raise your head slowly with a glare. “What are you doing?”

“Homework.” he said simply, opening a book as he silently began to read. Not once looking back to you, not saying another until he finished. Taking his things inside and wishing you goodnight, leaving the library without another word. 

It became a routine after you realized he wouldn’t give up. He would always show up, sitting on the chair he did that first night and working on his homework. There were times when you would get there and he was already sitting, books scattered all over the table until he saw you, moving his things to make some space for you. He didn’t bother you, so you allowed it. His presence  warm and welcoming as you studied, you even helped each other sometimes.

A year had passed by since that night, and you didn’t realize when you started to think about him as a friend. The only person you actually felt comfortable calling  a friend. He had been there for your happy days, your rough days. He took genuine interest in you. Telling you about him and his life, sharing his candy and food as you walked through the castle side by side. He asked you about your life before Hogwarts, how was your childhood with a muggle parent. You told him all about your past school, how you lost your friends through the years as you never got to see them and you couldn’t explain your sudden change of school and life. Theo became your best friend and you couldn’t be more happy. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked you.

“I don’t know.” you shrugged, putting a raspberry in his hand as you ate one “Sleep sounds good.” you said with a smile and he laughed.

“Are you sleeping for two days straight?” he said in disbelief, and you scoffed hitting his face with another raspberry.

“Is that a challenge?” you dared, sticking you tongue out to him.

He scrunched his nose, catching the berries in his mouth until you stopped “Stop, your Gryffindor is showing.” he said with a fake look of disgust. You only laughed, shaking your head as you drifted back to his question.

“I’m not doing anything, then.” you commented, waiting to see what he had to say.

“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade?” he asked simply, your heart beating fast in your chest in both nervousness and excitement. But once you saw  the carefree look in his face your heart dropped. Why were you feeling that way?

“I don’t know.” you said, trying to put the hurricane of emotions inside you at ease “I’ve never seen the fun in going.”

“That’s because you’ve never been there with me.” he said with a smile, tilting his head with a sigh at the hesitance in your face “C’mon, Y/N. You’ve told me you have never been with your friends…”

“They’re not really my friends.” you corrected with your lips pursed “They hardly are the people I hang out with. They’re just there in a silent agreement of company.”

“Am I not your friend?” he asked and you knew you had already lost the small debate.

“You know you’re my best friend.” you said with a small smile, one he returned as he held your hand, a warm tickle in your hand where his skin touched yours. 

“Then it’s settled. I’ll go get you from your common room.” he said and you nodded, praying that the emotion flowing inside you was slipping in the look of your face.

Little did you know that Theo was feeling exactly the same. His stomach was doing flips inside of him as you smiled at him. He wanted so bad to tell you it was a date, that he had just asked you out on a date but you had just said it, that word that left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

You’re my best friend.

Maybe he had been in the beginning, but not anymore. Or maybe he was, but he didn’t want to be your best friend. 

Many had noticed how the Slytherin and the Y/H/H had grown closer over the past year. Theories of what was the core of their relationship were made. How did Theo Nott get close to you? Did you have a deal no one knew about. Where you friends, partners, lovers. No one knew, and neither did you. 

The weekend arrives and just as promised Theo walked you from your common room to Hogsmeade, hand in hand as you talked through the snowy streets full of students. 

You were oblivious to the crowded mess, talking inside a bubble no one could bother you. Not even the redhead pair that stared at you as you walked past them. 

"Are you seeing what my eyes are seeing, George?" 

"We wouldn't be twins if I wasn't, Freddie." 

*******************************

"MAKE YOUR BETS, MATES!" yelled George from the top of the table in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. 

"Our lovely Y/N."

“Friends"

"Or lovers."

"With none other than Theodore Nott." 

They said, finishing each other's sentences with the invisible link the pair shared, that invisible string that made them shout the exact same words at the end. They wore grins on their faces as more bets were placed. 

"What do you think, little brother?" asked George jumping form the table 

"Friends or lovers?" 

Ron rolled his eyes, turning to Harry who was already making his bet with a smile in his face. Ron scoffed "I don't care about snakes business. They can be whatever they want." he said bitterly. 

"Someone jealous?" taunted Fred as Ron turned with a red face to his brother. 

He angrily pulled some coins from his pocket, slamming them in Fred's hands as he muttered "Lovers." 

*******************************

You had the time of your life at Hogsmeade. Theo was right and you told him so when the sun started to set, a few stars shining on the sky as you walked back to the castle. He smiled, hugging you closely with genuine joy in his face as he promised to take you again on the next trip there. 

However the next day, the murmurs and eyes from everyone in your year followed you everywhere you went. 

You were never shy, but the constant attention had you on edge the entire day. Finding refuge in the far table of the library, hidden in between the shelves where the only source of light was if you had a candle with you. 

You stayed there until late, waiting until the library was practically dead, you doubted madame Pince was still there, but you could never know. You had made it to the end of the day. 

"What are you doing here?" Theo's shushed voice came from behind you, his eyebrows scrunched together as he sat next to you, closer than he usually did. 

"I'm hiding." you whispered. 

For a moment his stomach dropped at the thought that you might have been hiding from him, that he might have let something slip on your day together and you knew how he felt. But you started ranting about your day and the looks you received from everyone and he understood, he had gotten the same looks all day long. 

"Don't worry." he murmured, opening his arms for you and you leaned on his side. "Draco probably said something about you again. I'll talk to him later" he sighed and you chuckled. 

He looked down to you, a loving look in his eyes as you kept chuckling. How could someone be so breathtaking just by doing such mundane things like leaning against someone and talking? Since the first time he saw you he knew you were beautiful but, Merlin, now you were gorgeous. 

"He is never forgetting about that, is he?" you laughed. Staring at the table, you frowned when Theo didn't say anything. 

You turned your head up to him, finding him already looking back at you. You didn't realize when you had leaned so close to him, his breathing blowing softly against your face as you gazed into his eyes. The little flick in them waking up all the butterflies in your stomach as you could have sworn his eyes moved to your lips for a fraction of second. 

You froze, realizing what that could mean when you felt him lean closer to you, his eyes closing before someone cleared their throat behind you, making you jump apart from one another. 

"The library is about to close." said professor Snape, looking at you with a glare before he settled his eyes on Theo. "Take your friend with you Mr. Nott. Directly to your common rooms." he said painfully slow.

You both nodded, clumsily taking all your stuff as you walked around him and practically ran out of there. No one said anything, your eyes on the floor as he walked you to your common room. 

"I'm sorry." he said once at the door handing you your books, your hands brushing against one another, making the blush in your face deeper. 

"No, I… You don't have to apologize." you stuttered before the words left your mouth. 

Heavy silence settled again between both of you, the tension making your stomach turn as you wished your feet would move and get you out of there. Of course, they had other plans. 

Theo wished you goodnight in a mumble, turning around and walking away just as you dropped your books on the floor, calling his name. 

"Yeah?" he asked, never meeting your eyes. You felt your mouth go dry, your hold in his wrist loosening as you breathed heavily. You brought your hand up to his cheek, smiling as he leaned in. He had closed his eyes and you ran your thumb across his cheek bone, waiting until he looked back at you. You started to lean in, his eyes widening as he realized what you were doing. His smile widened, cupping your cheeks as he closed the space between the two of you in a soft kiss. His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours with a smile that reached his eyes. 

"Remember when I told you I wanted you to be my Watson?" he breathed out with a smile "Well, I'm not so sure anymore."

You chuckled, moving to kiss his cheek as you rested your head on his shoulder "Funny, I always thought Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were lovers." you whispered in his ear. He smiled at you, kissing you once more. 

Completely unaware of the audience not so far away, hiding behind a wall with wide grins. "Ron was right." 

TAGS: @fanficflaneuse​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @lupins-sweater​ @accio-rogers​ @gloriousrebelrunaway​ @slytherinprincess03​ @not-today-anxiety​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @infinity1o1​ @haphazardhufflepuff​​ @deafgirltingz​

[luminescentauthor]

random fun RatLD hcs

you came here for RatLD shitposts and that’s what you’re gonna get!

SPOILERS AND LOTS OF THEM BELOW THE CUT, IF U HAVEN’T SEEN IT YET PROCEED AT UR OWN RISK.

I refuse to post about this movie without acknowledging the cultural significance of the first SEA disney princess and I will continue to do so until people on this website start remembering that this movie is about amazing cultures and trust and overall a WHOLE lot more than just the sapphics (as great as they are.)

anyway, so, headcanon time, my dudes!

The Next Adventure

Talon is a total mess after everyone gets un-stoned. (Ok so just for posterity, my marvel fan brain just went “un-snapped” on instinct and I hate it here.) The two chiefs are fighting for control, and Noi, being a baby, is not really in a position to help (unlike Raya, Naamari, and Tong.)

As such, the crew has to go undercover in Talon to try and, you know, stop the chiefs from destroying their people with their infighting. Tong insists on coming. Naamari happened to be in Heart and gets dragged along by Sisu and Raya, complaining the whole time, but everyone knows she doesn’t mean it. Boun also shows up and exactly no one is surprised.

During this misadventure, Noi’s mother names Tong as Noi’s godfather/honorary uncle/whatever, undercover Naamari and Raya go “noooooo, we’re not the princesses of Fang and Heart, what on earth are you talking about???” on at least five separate occasions, and the crew discovers that Noi inherited her sticky fingers from her very clever mother. She’s basically a grade-A spy and thief but she’s also just like, genuinely a very nice woman.

Rayaari!

Raya and Naamari take a long time literally just figuring things out and reconstructing their friendship, because really, as much as I love sapphics, there’s also a whole lot of messy there, and because these are my headcanons, they work out their problems and have a healthy friendship for a couple years before any romance happens, because that’s how Real Life works and I don’t believe in ignoring those Pretty Important Things in fiction.

They do eventually start a relationship, but they take their time. A bit into it, Benja accidentally mentions that Raya told him she liked Naamari when they met. Naamari’s like “ha you did?” and Raya goes “BA NO.” Then Virana immediately says “oh yes, Naamari also liked her, she didn’t stop crying because she thought Raya turned to stone for like three days” and Raya goes “you did, hmm???” while Naamari turns bright red.

Before they start dating, as their feelings grow, they start calling each other “dep la” more and more and everyone is just kinda of like “oh my GOD just date already???”

Eventually Raya and Naamari get married and become the leaders of Kumandra. No I Won’t Change My Mind.

Unification of Kumandra

The unification of Kumandra felt a bit shoehorned, and I suspect the nations aren't united under one leader(s): it's more that they're now becoming close-knit again. Perhaps they have a meeting council of all their leaders that makes decisions that affect the whole land, otherwise that probably becomes a thing at some point.

When Kumandra eventually becomes totally unified, the capital of Heart (which I believe is on the island we see on the map of Kumandra) eventually becomes the capital. It still has five provinces/states, though.

Fang and Heart

Heart and Fang help each other out a lot with recovering from the “most of our people got turned into the statues” stuff. Heart has more resources, but most of its people have been stone for 6 years. So the two states/countries are both capable of different things.

Of all the kingdoms, Heart and Fang have the most to rebuild: Fang’s only standing city was destroyed in the finale of the movie, while Heart has been growing over for six years. Sure, Spine’s been stone for a while, and some of Talon’s docks and water ships and whatnot collapsed when the water vanished, but it’s still significantly easier to repair than “six years of overgrowth and rot and rust” or “literally the ground collapsed underneath us and wow um I don’t think that’s reparable.” So they really team up to fix it, and the others help them a lot.

The actual leaders stay in their capitals to lead until things have calmed down a WHOLE lot, so Raya and Naamari travel around Kumandra on their parents’ behalf a lot, and wind up going between Fang and Heart a lot to establish diplomatic relations and also to help with rebuilding.

Over this period, and while doing diplomatic meetings later on, Virana and Benja come to realize that the other person is actual quite decent. There’s some mess and distrust because of Virana’s thing with the Dragon Gem, but it eventually gets worked out. (Virana’s reaction is “yes that’s fair. In my defense, I was trying to do what I thought was right for my people, who were starving, but Yes, That’s Fair.” Benja’s reaction is “honestly if your people were starving from famine and you thought the Gem would help, that makes more sense.”) After a while, they become pretty good friends.

And suddenly Raya and Naamari regret everything. See, Naamari mentioned that both parents make terrible jokes. The girls are Suffering. Help them.

Sisu loves the bad jokes. Sisu also makes bad jokes. Raya and Naamari are silently dying.

It’s silly, but I like the idea that 3-4 years down the line, Virana and Benja consider getting married just for political reasons (alliance and all that) (they’re not actually interested in each other, it’s just practicality) and Naamari and Raya, who are not dating but are definitely in deep for each other at this point, are immediately like “NO. NO. DO NOT MAKE MY CRUSH MY STEPSISTER. DO NOT.”

Virana and Benja (mostly Benja) tease them by “considering” it for a bit longer, but they don’t, since they talked about it and both kids are uncomfortable with it. (”They like each other, don’t they?” Virana asks dryly. “Ohhh yeah,” Benja replies.)

Music? Music!

I was listening to a youtube mix this morning and “Too Far Gone” by Hidden Citizens popped up and it just reminded me of Raya’s attitude towards Kumandra at the start of the movie. Also it’s just a beautiful song.

“Knife in my Back” by Alec Benjamin is Raya @ Naamari before they figured things out, change my mind.

Other Stuff!

We can guess based off how long it took the crew to get from Tail to Fang even with side adventures (I think it was 3-4 days max, I wasn't totally paying attention) that one can navigate from one end of the river to the other within a couple days even in a boat like Boun's, and the royal families probably have even faster modes of transportation. (I.e. Naamari got from Tail to Fang in a couple days, then to Spine, then beat the crew back to Fang. On land.) Therefore, unlike I was originally thinking, it's actually totally realistic for the crew to be visiting each other once or twice a month.

It's even more realistic for Naamari to crash Raya's place on a weekly basis, since that's probably like six hours on cat at max.

I don't know what the cats are, so I will be calling them saber-cats until someone corrects me.

TUMBLR JUST MYSTERIOUSLY STOPPED ACCPTING MY "E" KY HLP I HAV TO US COPY PAST

Wait I think I fixed it. Crisis averted! Sorry about that.

Because Naamari is in Heart half the time, Virana visits quite frequently too. It’s not a long trip, anyway.

Virana is not straight (haircut) but I can’t decide if she’s a lesbian or what. She doesn’t have a spouse and never did. Only those Virana closely trusts know who Naamari’s dad is. Naamari does know and she’s met him, because Virana figured she had a right to. He and Virana never had a relationship, Virana just sort of needed an heir and a trusted personal friend offered to father the kid.

Tong’s wife is a total badass and instantly fits in with the crew. She and Noi’s mother quickly become very close friends.

Noi and Tong’s kid also immediately get along. As in, they constantly throw things at each other while giggling madly and both love the Ongis, and -- are they whispering to each other in that corner?? They might be conspiring to take over the world. Who knows.

Noi learns how to talk and becomes about 5 times more chaotic. Everyone is Regret (except Tong.)

[timextoxhajima]

The Misadventures of Ares: Promotionem

HOSTIS MASTERLIST

“Do I want to know if one of you will be reported missing tomorrow after I give you this information?” Dr. Choi has his left jaw snug in his left palm, head resting in his hand with his free one fiddling with the corner of a file. 

“With all due respect, Dr. Choi, I doubt you have much of a choice,” Hyunjae grits his teeth and bares them like he was cringing. You would love to agree with him on the spot, but that’s not a very smart thing to do now, no. 

The promotion was yours, and if it wasn’t, Dr. Choi might actually have to call 911 tomorrow when he doesn’t see your fiancé report to work. 

He raises a brow and provides a slight shrug at Hyunjae’s words, already tuned to his little remarks that could cause a fire, but not enough for him to fire him. The hospital couldn’t anyway, not when Hyunjae’s done more good than most doctors in the building. 

“I must have the both of you know that this promotion doesn’t mean anything. The paycheck is just about two or three thousand dollars difference and the working hours are still the same.”

A pause. He’s waiting for a reaction.

None. 

“No matter which one of you gets promoted at this point, the other can get a promotion far more honorable, you know?”

He pauses again.

Nothing.

Dr. Choi sighs in resignation. “Very well,” He opens the file. Hyunjae sucks in a deep breath and shrinks his left eye, like he was scared something was going to pop out of those ivory pages. “I would like to congratulate Dr. l/n for excelling at her job, and the hospital would like to present her with-”

“YYYYYYYYYEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!” Your fists are clenched so hard and pushed so fast up into the air, the sides of your chest hurt. “AHA! DIDN’T I TELL YOU I’D GET THE PROMOTION FIRST?”

“Dr. l/n,” The senior doctor calls out, yanking your ghastly triumph back down to Earth. You hadn’t realised you were inches away from Hyunjae’s face, doing nothing but ironically talking down to him as if you were ready to win a rap battle. 

“Oh,” Quick, embarrassed steps retreat you from your fiancé (and your loser of a colleague). “Sorry.”

Gaze stuck to the floor and your fingers tightly interweaved with one another, you cannot control the smile that’s erupting across your face. The glee, the satisfaction, the pure bliss that encapsulates your entire being in the form of a sheet of paper in front of you. 

“Very graceful, Dr. l/n.” Hyunjae’s voice sneaks up from your right, and the childish need to stick out your tongue at him overwhelms your need to remain professional. 

“Sometimes I question how you two made it past med school,” Dr. Choi looks up, over the rims of his glasses and raises a brow. The gesture earns a gentle huff from you as you turn away from Hyunjae. “Anyway, I’ll be sending you an email regarding the additional things you need to look out for, but for now, just keep up the good work.”

Clenching your fists in glee, you are snickering when you look up at Dr. Choi, who only turns to look at Hyunjae. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be the next to get a bigger promotion, Dr. Lee.”

“I know,” Hyunjae nods knowingly. The smug smirk directed at you rips out a sneer from your lips. “I trust you, Dr. Choi.”

You are halfway across the distance between you and your fiance, hand in the air and ready to slap it down against his arm when Dr. Choi raises both his hands, palms facing his audience and waving aggressively. 

“If you two want to fight over this miniscule promotion, please do it at elsewhere, possibly in the safety of your own homes.”

Hyunjae tuts loudly, walking around you and heading for the door of Dr. Choi’s office. “Thank you, Dr. Choi,” He pauses, and glances between you and the older doctor. “And do help me call the police and ambulance tomorrow if I don’t show up.”

Your lower jaw goes slack as Hyunjae purses his lips in mischief, quickly exiting the office before you can throw something at him. “You-!”

“Dr. l/n!”

The mandarin shades of the setting sun is reflecting off the champagne glass tower as you are shown to the rooftop restaurant. With the spectacular view of the city and the sights of exquisite food placed on perfect-white porcelain plates, this is the last thing you would’ve expected him to do. 

“Over here, Mr and Mrs Lee,” The waiter, who’s dressed in a suit that seemed mroe expensive than the clothes you were wearing now, gestures to a table for two nearest to the end where there was a gorgeous waterfall over the ledge and into the water catchment area below. “Here’s the menu. Today’s soup special is the Black Truffle Mushroom and I recommend that we get you started on a five-course seafood and steak meal with a Cabernet or Malbec.”

“Kitten, is there anything you don’t want before I get us started on that five-course?” 

Your eyes dart away from the glistening water below to look at Hyunjae, whose eyes are plastered to the menu while the waiter is standing by the table with his hands before his abdomen. 

“Uh- I-”

“We’ll both have the five-course. And make that two Cabernets. But is it alright if we change the soup special to Clam Chowder? It’s in the menu.”

The waiter takes the menu from Hyunjae that was being handed over. “Definitely. I’ll come by soon with the wine and soup.”

“Thank you.”

And with that, the waiter takes off with the menus and leaves you staring in awe at the view before you. Hyunjae peels your hand off the table and plants a kiss on the back of your hand, before cupping his own cheek in your palm.

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it,” As much as you wanted to slam a book in his face for teasing you infront of your mentor this morning, you couldn’t. How could anybody? “You really didn’t have to.”

“No, no,” Hyunjae releases your hand for you to keep. “I’m great at being gracious and this is it. You won the fight and you deserve a treat.”

“But my treat’s the promotion. I didn’t need this.”

Hyunjae leans back in his chair, with his emerald green blazer a capturing all the orange there is that settling on the fabric. His hair is slightly tousled, and it’s a miracle how it remains in its position. He never liked touching much wax or hairspray unless he knew he couldn’t afford it getting into his face. But his skin is so clear, it looks like glass. And his eyes are pearls in the clear blue sea when you look down in the sand. 

Then he looks at you with utmost genuine when he parts his lips, only speaking out enough for you to hear.

“At least let me enjoy celebrating your wins with you, even if you beat me to it.”

A gentle chuckle escapes your throat. “Is this how you won Minhee over, back when we were in school? With your... diabetic, sugar-infused speech?”

Hyunjae pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue and crosses his legs under the table. “That probably wouldn’t work - words don’t click like they do in her head as they do in ours.”

“That’s mean!” 

“Says you.”

The sound of your stomach gurgling stirs you in your sleep - which is weird. You've never had a problem with gastric or anything similar of the sorts. It's a surprise when your mouth starts flooding with saliva though, and you try to sit up in a bid to swallow down the need to hurl.

But a weight on your hip keeps you from sitting up completely, as so does Hyunjae's arm on your waist that keeps you pinned to the bed.

"Jae-" 

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Get your leg off me."

"No."

"Get your damn leg off me before I-"

There it is again.

Hyunjae can feel your physique squirm against his chest. The feeling of queasiness lurches up your stomach and into your throat and finally it becomes unbearable. He isn't given a chance before you literally slide out from underneath him and bolt for his bathroom, and before you know it you're on your knees with your dinner and dessert being hurled out into the toilet bowl.

"Jesus, are you okay?" Hyunjae squats next to you after turning on the bathroom light. "Was it something you ate?"

The stench of the remnants in the toilet bowl stinks up the whole bathroom, and your slightly limp hand reaches out for the flush. "I don't know. I don't think so- you're not puking."

"Well- I could have a stronger stomach than you."

Sitting your bum to the cold tiles of the floor, your eyes naturally start shooting daggers at your fiancé. "You really know when to say the best things, don't you?"

The mischief in him slips away, replaced with a gentle smile as he presses his hand to your forehead. "Well, you're not having a fever so it probably isn't food poisoning."

"Never mind," Your hand searches for something solid to help you up, but Hyunjae interrupts you and slides his arms under your knees and your back instead. "I can get a check up at the hospital tomorrow when I check into work."

"Can't you take the day off and get your check up elsewhere?"

"We literally work at the hospital," Your bum leaves the floor as he carries you out, stopping by the switch on the wall to turn off the light. "Isn't it common sense to make use of that?"

Hyunjae hums, making it to his bed in about 5 or 6 steps. The cushion sinks under your weight when he puts you down in bed, and he crawls over you playfully, with his arms perching his torso above yours.

"You're so cute when you need me to take care of you," He pecks your nose and forehead.

"I don't need any taking care, Sir," Your fingers dig into his cheeks as you squish them, forcing his lips into an 'o'. "You're cuter, by the way."

Hyunjae grins widely, eyes still sleepy. Then he topples over and scoops you into his chest like a child holding a puppy, lips against your forehead as his gentle breathing takes you away into your slumber.

"Why did you even bother to clock into work today when you're not feeling well?" The general practitioner frowns at you through the reflection of his laptop as he watches you slide the door of his office shut.

"Aw, not happy to see me?" The sarcasm was awfully heavy in your voice as the smirk remains plastered to your face. Dr. Kyung Won Jin whirls around in his roller chair and scoots over to his desk where you head for, automatically pulling your white coat so that you wouldn't sit on it.

"I think I'd like it more if we were... perhaps in a restaurant or a café catching up instead." He takes your temperature and blood pressure.

"I would but I'm swamped," The blood pressure arm strap tightens around your skin and muscle. 

"Not to mention that promotion I heard you got yesterday, right?" He smiles, turning to his laptop and letting some program run.

The satisfaction wells your chest. "So you've heard!" 

"How could I not, when the entire department heard you yelling about it in Dr. Choi's office?"

A low chuckle collects the atmosphere as he removes the blood pressure strap. He clicks a pen and jots down the number, but it's not enough to catch your attention.

"Well, had to make sure to rub it in his face."

"Would've been there to see it myself... but, probably didn't want to be around when y'all are hurling things at each other."

"News flash, we didn't throw anything at each other," You grin at Dr. Kyung, who pulls out a needle and a blood tube.

"Nice to know," He wraps a band around your forearm before lifting the syringe. "Hold still for me, yeah?" Dr. Kyung starts pulling on the syringe. "So, how did he take it? Did he give you the cold shoulder?"

All you can remember from the previous day was the warmth of the sunset and the coolness from the starry night sky.

"Nah," A sweet smile overcomes your greed to flaunt your triumph. "He took me out for a dinner date."

"Aww," Dr. Kyung pouts cutely, eyes flitting back and forth between the blood tube and you. "So, when's the wedding? You've already registered your marriage, haven't you?"

"Well, yes. But the wedding's gotta wait," Dr. Kyung pulls out the needle, pressing a cotton pad to your tiny wound that you press into your arm. "I don't think we can afford the time to plan one now. We were already busy before and now with the promotion... Nah."

"Mm," He hums, sticking the blood tube into one of those test tube holders.

"That's a bummer. But if you do have a wedding, I'd hate to miss it."

Dr. Kyung helps you paste a plaster before you get up and take your leave.

"Of course not. Anything for you, Dr."

The marble counter is slightly stained with cream sauce and some pepper when the pasta is done cooking, and Hyunjae wraps his arms around your waist in a bid to plant little kisses into the back of your neck.

"You're already not helping and you want to pull this stunt now?"

Hyunjae turns off the stove before you're done and turns you around, letting you lean against the edge of the counter. "Who said I didn't help? I got the groceries and I set the table."

You can taste the butter from the garlic bread he was told to make when he presses his lips into yours.

"I told you to help with the garlic bread, not eat them," Hands on his chest, you pull away but unable to escape from between his hands on the edge of the counter.

"I was hungry, let me live a little, would you?" His fingers find your chin and bring them to his face again. The smile that stretches across his lips when you can't resist the kiss he's offering tastes like-

Then Hyunjae's right arm finally leaves the counter, and his left rests on your waist instead. His lips don't leave yours until he finds the vibrating device in the back pocket of his pants.

"Mm, hi- Dr. Kyung," He manages between the kisses. "Mhm- yes- she was just- cooking-"

Of all times to call...

"Right- the blood test- Mhm-"

Then he abruptly screeches to a halt, and your lips are left alone like ditching a puppy along the street.

"Ugh, will you hang up and just-"

"No, shut up, kitten," He shows you his palm as he transfers more attention to the person on the other end of the line, his left hand still gentle on your waist.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the pan and pour out your dinners into two plates that you bring to the table.

"It's my blood test," You mumble to yourself, annoyed. After setting down the food, you finally turn around to look at him, hands on your hips. Your lips are already parted to ask him to hang up and just come for dinner if it's nothing important, but he beats you to it.

"Kitten," The phone is held a distance away from his ear, his eyes flickering like satellites in the sky. "You're pregnant."

[mistaeq]

Saturday, 26th December

Romeo!Don Giovanna x Juliet!Reader: The Masque

TW // mafia is mentioned, please don't take it lightly. Mista x Trish is implied, but I've aged her up.

Today I offer you this, which I'm proud of, and it doesn't happen often. So I hope you all enjoy this.

A darker point of view on Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Naples, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their ancient strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

Is now the two hours' traffic of my fic;

The which if you with patient eyes attend,

What here shall miss, my toil shall strive to mend.

"I will be honest to thee, if thou do not mind me saying so, Don Giovanna. But I am still struggling to understand why thou wanted to show up to the event." the golden haired signore slightly chuckled, after his councilor's words, who was now helping him with fixing the bow which perfectly fit his elegant braid. He never gave up on styling his hair the same way, and now that he was showing up to an event out of pure spite, he was not going to change that.

"It is not that I wanted it, my dear Guido." the Don said, fixing his cream colored jacket's sleeves, an amused grin animating his relaxed features. "They don't expect me to show up at all, all they did was inviting me, thinking I would have chosen to not to go. And make fun of thy lord's attitude. It would be rude of mine, to not to let them know how good I am doing, despite their several attempts to push me down."

"Indeed, signore. Thy reasonment sounds just right." the young councilor Guido Mista agreed with the Don, crouching to give a better look at the lord's image in the mirror and nodding in satisfaction when he made sure the bow was symmetrical as he wanted. "In addition to this, I am pleased to inform thee about my choice of asking Lord Diavolo's daughter's hand in marriage, as soon as she will turn eighteen. Lady Trish." Giorno's grin, if possibly, widened. His councilor marrying his worst enemy's daughter? Sounded just perfect, since she was gonna move in their mansion. By her own choice. She hated her father, and had agreed to the marriage. Great to hear.

"Thou spoke music to my ears, Guido. And I thank thee for thou fixed my bow properly." the golden haired Don stood up, and started walking towards the door, eyeing at his councilor's outfit. "Get ready, we are going." Believe me, he was about to touch the door handle, when a rough voice, who always allowed itself to speak too much, interrupted his actions.

"What about thy heart, signore? No love story nor marriage for thee?" The gunslinger dared to say, perfectly knowing his Don thought he had to keep on being focused on his own affairs, rather than have love related ones. He just liked to drop the question every now and then, but started being genuinely worried. Guido know how romantic Don Giovanna could get, and the thought of him getting old without getting married, weirded him out. At first, he used to think Giorno needed time to get used to his role as a boss in the neapolitan mafia - the biggest reason of his strife against Diavolo -, but now, years had passed, and it was getting worse.

"Tender is the way love might make this man change. Thy lord is not ready to face such a thing. Unless it is really worth a try." Don Giovanna's hand lingered around the doorknob, caressing it in an attempt to examinate a thin layer of dust. "Do me the favor to tell Ghirga that cleaning up every little thing, even the most insignificant one, is definitely not optional." the blonde said, finally tightening his grip on the door handle and exiting the room. Left in the whistling silence of the place, the councilor proceeded to get ready for the event himself. He knew his signore didn't like to make someone wait.

As soon as he came in the hall, everyone turned around him and his councilor, Guido Mista, who soon blended into the crowd, for his betrothed Trish Una gripped on his arm and pulled him somewhere else. "Bothering thy councilor is not my intention, Don Giovanna. I am asking for thy permission, to take him for a while." What else could the blonde man even answer, if not agreeing with it happening. Without any doubt, he was left alone so fast, he had now nobody to cover him, as his golden hair didn't blend at all into the crowd.

A pleasant smell of cooked food and wooden furniture penetrated the Don's nose, as he gripped a glass of wine from the servant who was walking around with a tray holding some. The man shook the crystal glass a little, before he smelled the alcoholic liquid, and took a sip from it. Then, he quietly snorted. "And this would be wine. I consider myself lucky, being these people's foe. This truly doth be terrible."

Giorno mentally commented almost everything in the hall, judging the furniture... "Outdated.", the people... "Seeing them stare at me pleases me. If they are willing to criticize my appearance and attitude, I will be even more pleased.", and the service as well. "These servants are just what Lord Diavolo likes. Being so useless, it pains me." he took the last sip from his crystal glass of wine. "Let me see how much will it take for some servant to notice."

No wonder, the signore was really full of himself, and he was right, for all the people's voices murmuring when he passed by, were coming from pure envy. Diavolo staring at him, from the top of a huge flight of stairs. Don Giovanna had not noticed him, for he didn't consider necessary the action of looking above his own head. Giorno knew he was the one to be already at the top. If so, it were others who had too look up to him. He had learnt he had to stand up to ferocious beasts too, and he managed, in his life, to dominate the worst out of all the beasts. Humanity.

Plus, he was extremely focused on what was happening in front of himself, for he could see, in the middle of the hall, several couples dancing. No need to specify, that was the place where Lady Trish had brought the councilor Mista. Don Giovanna couldn't help but slightly smirk. That man had always been so loyal to him, and he was genuinely proud of him for he had found a wife and helped his affairs at the same time. He watched at the curly, dark haired councilor moving his betrother around with grace, until they accidentally bumped into another couple who was dancing beside them. The Don was now elegantly chuckling, he was amused, he was...

...Love-struck. The couple who Mista and Una had bumped into, consisted in a young lord and a beautiful creature who probably came from heavens above. The angel apologized to the pink haired Lady with a laughter, and bowed to Guido in apology. The angel... were you. Diavolo's niece/nephew had made the impenetrable heart of Don Giovanna fall in love. Could he talk about love? He wanted to. All in a matter of two seconds, the golden haired man imagined you dressed up for a luxurious wedding. What he did not know, was that there would have also been Diavolo in the crowd, watching his archenemy marry you. He had no idea you were related to him. As the same servant he had taken a glass from before passed by, Giorno gripped her arm, and pulled her closer.

"What angel is that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?" he frantically asked, his tone was serious and imposing, as if he was ready to squeeze the information out of the poor servant. But she knew nothing about you, it was not like she was a family servant. She was just there to serve for the event. "I know not, sir", the poor waitress said, holding the tray on her chest and trying to go back into the kitchen. "I apologize. Uh. More wine?" The girl also asked, as Don Giovanna remembered he had ran out of wine. But he shook his head and left the empty glass in the servant's hand, moving towards you to have a better look, not noticing he was right under the flight of stairs where Diavolo and a follower of his were standing. Then, he started to talk to himself, contemplating you.

"O, they doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems they hangs upon the cheek of night." he moved his hands together, in a similar motion as one of a prayer. "Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear. Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder angel o'er their fellows shows." Don Giovanna's fingers intertwined with each other as he spoke. "The measure done, I'll watch their place of stand, and, touching theirs, make blessed my rude hand." with his intense gaze, Giorno's left hand moved to slide on the side of his body, as the right hand touched his chest. "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

He made the mistake to melt right under the sight of Diavolo, who smirked in seeing him so vulnerable for such a thing. Nobody was there to tell him that falling in love with you would have been his end. The pink haired lord was not irritated, for even if Giorno had tried to humiliate him, the golden haired boss was humiliating himself now, over a fleeting love. The man on the stairs wouldn't even have needed to do anything. Not that he wanted it in the first place. He would have behaved, to show his superiority off.

But Diavolo's loyal servant, lord Cioccolata, had other ideas. "This, by his voice, should be Giovanna. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave come hither, cover'd with an antic face, to fleer and scorn at our solemnity?" the green haired man bent over the banister to take a better look to the supercilious Giorno, who, again, had no clue of what was right above him. "Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, to strike him dead, I hold it not a sin." Cioccolata murmured, but felt his arm get gripped from his boss.

"Why, how now, kinsman. Wherefore storm you so?" the servant's jaw dropped.

"Signore, this is literally Don Giovanna, our foe, a villain that is hither come in spite, to scorn at our solemnity this night." as the same servant who Giorno had talked to approached Diavolo and offered him a glass of wine, the pink haired boss smelled it and took a little sip from it. Then, grinned. He was not in the mood for violence. For now. So he had to keep Cioccolata back from every kind of bad decision. It wasn't easy, to keep such a man from murder. Out of pure honesty.

"Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, Cioccolata. He bears him like a portly gentleman, and, to say truth, Naples brags of him to be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth." Diavolo explained. It would not have been good if something happened to that man in his mansion. He was part of Naples' pride. "I would not for the wealth of all the town, here in my house do him disparagement: therefore be patient, take no note of him. It is my will, the which if thou respect, show a fair presence and put off these frowns, and ill-beseeming semblance for a feast." was he asking his most violent servant to have... patience over his archenemy? Yes, he was, and Cioccolata was speechless.

"It fits, when such a villain is a guest. I'll not endure him." the angered man replied, trying once again to get his signore to reasonate and realize they could get rid of him so easily if they wished so. The councilor Mista was even too distracted by Diavolo's daughter to keep an eye on his boss. It could have been so simple, for Cioccolata, to...

"Am I the master here, or you? You'll not endure him? God shall mend my soul! You'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! You'll be the man!" the pink haired man slightly raised his voice - not enough for Giorno to hear - and made himself clear, so that if the green haired made any possible mess during his feast, he would have had to take his own responsibility.

"I will withdraw, then." the servant gave up on his ideas, but rudely. His one almost felt like a poisonous gaze. "But this intrusion shall now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall." he said, indirectly threatening an oblivious Giorno. Talking about him, during their conversation between the two men on the stairs, he turned unnoticed until Cioccolata left. When Diavolo looked down on him again, the golden haired boss was now in the middle of a crowded mess of people who was dancing, people who was eating and conversing. He was with you. Finally.

Giorno Giovanna approached you in a way you couldn't help but notice. He looked like the sun, a golden being, it caught your heart as well. Neverending seconds of staring at each other followed, until... "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this." he gently took your hand in his. It felt warm. "My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." as the man said so, he leaned in to leave a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His sweet scent overwhelming you as he moved. How gentle.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this." you withdrew your hand and slightly chuckled, reassuring him it was fine. Someway, the two of you found yourself moving away from the crowd. In a more intimate spot. Diavolo couldn't even find you. "For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch..." your sweet voice was soothing the man more than you would realize. "...and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

Giorno bit his lip in anticipation, and gently exhaled. "Have not saints lips... and holy palmers too?" he asked, leaning down right towards your soft mouth, before you moved aside and, chuckling like an angel playing in a field, avoided the gentleman's kiss, jokingly scolding his mind with a mischievous smile.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." You provoked him. Where had Giorno Giovanna's temperance gone? He had swore to his councilor, just before leaving his house, that he wouldn't have let love blind his senses. And there he was. Plus, you did not know each other. You did not know who you were. You did not know you should have not been there together. Due to this, he gladly accepted your game, and chuckled back. God, he was so ethereal and he did not even realize it.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do." he begged, looking almost afraid of touching you, or your waist, or your own hand. How can someone fall so deep in love after having just met someone? Does love at first sight even exist? "They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." Don Giovanna's tone sounded impatient.

But you had accepted to play his game, and now you would have played it until the very end. You smirked, staring at the blonde man's trembling lips. "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." you said, implying the fact that you wouldn't have made the first step. It made sense, though. It was him, who had compared you to a saint first. Little did you know, you were playing with fire, for that man you felt love at first sight for, was your uncle's archenemy.

Giorno grinned, and hid you more against the wall, as your hands automatically wrapped around his figure. Though you didn't move in for a kiss. Until... "Then move not... while my prayer's effect I take.", said the man, grazing with his lips against yours, and finally pressing. You felt all your senses relieve and relax, as your hands grasped on the fabric of the Don's jacket. You didn't like your uncle's crimes. You wouldn't have liked Giorno's ones too. But you had no clue. And he had no clue you were Diavolo's niece/nephew. And you were in love.

His sugary sweet lips clicked against yours a last, neverending time, when he pulled back and thought staring right in your eyes was a good idea. "Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." Don Giovanna whispered, breathing hard against your giggling mouth. He hadn't stopped playing, you noticed with a pleasant feeling.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took...?" you slyly asked him, clearly wanting the kiss to continue, clearly wanting more, having no idea of how wrong it was. Having no idea of how dangerous is was. Though his eyes widened, and got even closer, so close to giving you what you wanted for the second time. You felt yourself growing so enamored.

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!" he paused for a second, before he bit his own lower lip. "Give me my sin again." Giorno whispered, grabbing your waist with his hand and kissing you, almost desperately, but romantically, against the wall. He had been so focused on anything else, that he had forgotten the true flavor of love, and living it all again after he had swore he wouldn't have done it, was way too intense. Way too beautiful. Better than the art he'd been collecting the latest years.

When he pulled back, you instictively smiled and raised an eyebrow, silently chuckling a little. "You kiss by the book..." you told him, caressing his neck gently and carefully. If it were for him and you, that beautiful moment could go on for hours, days, even an eternity. But beautiful things never last. The two of you almost had a heart attack, when the arm of a blonde, long haired man grabbed your right wrist, ripping your dream in half.

"Madam/sir, your uncle craves a word with you." he almost managed to get you away from Giorno, when the Don grabbed your left wrist, and pulled you towards him, not letting the man, Tiziano to be precise, bring you away.

"What's their uncle?"

At that question, the almond eyed man smirked, as if he was ready to drop a heavy bomb on the snooty Don. "Marry, bachelor, their uncle is the lord of the house, and a good man, wise and virtuous. I nursed his niece/nephew, that you talk'd withal." as if Tiziano had read into Don Giovanna's mind, he added something else, just for the sake of making it even heavier. "I tell you, he that can lay hold of them, shall have the chinks."

Then the blonde haired Don followed the two of you around the hall, until he saw you get pulled upstairs by Tiziano, and connected his brains to what he saw. Diavolo, waiting for you upstairs, and Tiziano holding your arm so that you wouldn't have been able to run away. Four painful words formed on Giorno's whispering lips. "Are they an enemy...?" he asked to himself, looking at you up there, until Trish didn't appear as well behind you.

Trish wasn't happy to be there, she loved Guido Mista, but apparently Diavolo had called all his family back. And your presence there, only confirmed his fear. You were about to step back towards him and say something, but Tiziano caught your shoulder just in time, and pulled you close enough to whisper you the words you would have never wanted to hear. "His name is Giorno." he added more details. "Giorno Giovanna. The only appearance you should match to your great enemy."

You stood there. Empty. You and your forbidden lover had understood what was going on. And both your hearts clenched. And both your hearts suffered. How could love be so beautiful yet so evil, to make a man live and die on the same evening. How...

We all know how this story ends, we know about the pain, we know about the sorrow. But what if this time it made sense. One of the lovers is dirty with criminal blood, running through his veins, and you accept him, in the good and in the bad. Is this right...?

Or is death the punishment, for the sin that in reality your lips hadn't purged at all?

[reinvent-and-believe]

another taste of heavenly rush

So this was supposed to be a silly little breathplay PWP drabble as a birthday tribute to the lovely @witchertrashbag but then it kind of...evolved??? Mutated??? lol who knows what happened, I sure as hell don’t. Anyway happy late birthday Wine Aunt, you’re a credit to this fandom, I hope you enjoy this belated smutty mess 🖤

Jaskier is utterly bewitched by the sight of a huge, leather-clad hand on the man’s throat.

He should be paying attention to the words being exchanged, seeing as he started the quarrel that led to the aforementioned hand-on-throat situation. Well. Hadn’t started it, per se, but he had certainly escalated it, and gods know Geralt won’t appreciate that particular nuance.

But the red-faced man currently gasping for breath beneath the witcher’s considerable grip had simultaneously insulted Jaskier’s songwriting and Geralt’s honor in one ill-begotten, unoriginal sentence after Jaskier’s performance in the tavern common room, something about “don’t clap for that little prick’s filth, praising freaks and monsters.” The bard had simply smiled sweetly, taken a sip of his ale, and intimated that the man’s wife was something of an expert on the subject of little pricks.

And then the man tried to hit him with a chair, and Jaskier can hardly be blamed for that, although Geralt will, inevitably. He’d scurried away from the onslaught and called out an only vaguely panicked “Geralt!” which led them here, the ugly sour-breathed man pinned to the tavern wall, his feet twitching desperately for solid ground, held up by one huge, bulky hand.

This little misadventure won’t make it into one of his songs. There’s nothing poetic about a prejudiced drunk man being rude and getting choked for his efforts.

Although...Jaskier’s eyes are drawn again to the sharp contrast of the brown leather of the gauntlets against the greasy pink of the man’s skin. Maybe there is something poetic to choking, after all. Choking, choking out, feeling the life drain from your body by a huge, leather-clad hand. Choking as in choking something else, draining something else from...jerking off, choking as in jerking off, and it’s not his best work but he’s fairly distracted at the moment because the thought of a huge, leather clad hand gripping a swollen, leaking cock has burrowed its way into Jaskier’s mind and fuck, how is he supposed to think about anything else now? Slick red head squeezed a little too hard, beading pearlescent drops disappearing into a supple russet fist that’s a little too coarse, too cold, too dry but feels divine nonetheless…

“Jaskier!���

Fuck.

The innkeep is shouting at them to get out, holding a broom as menacingly as one can hold a broom, and Geralt is glowering at him. “Go, bard! Roach!”

Right. He grabs his lute and flies out the door, the cool night air a shock on his overheated skin. He sprints to the stables and sets to work quickly tacking up the mare as he coos at her soothingly. “Deepest apologies, my dear lady, but it seems our plans for the evening have been altered somewhat.”

He’s leading her out and back toward the tavern when the door flies open, Geralt charging out. He fixes Jaskier with an exasperated glare and snatches the reins from him. “Dammit, Jaskier,” he mutters, swinging into the saddle. “If your cock doesn’t get us both killed, your mouth will.”

And if Jaskier’s arousal had flagged in the process of fleeing and fetching their escape horse, all it takes is a reference to cocks and mouths in close proximity to bring it roaring back to life as Geralt drags him up behind him and spurs Roach into a gallop out of the village.

It’s new, this thing with Geralt.

He’d met the witcher just over two years ago, back in Posada. They’d travelled together and parted near half a dozen times since, but this current sprint is by far their longest together, going on four months. They’ve fallen into a routine, found ways of traveling that make both their paths smoother. Jaskier’s songs are more lucrative when he can theatrically proclaim that their hero, his muse, the town’s savior is in their very midst; Geralt’s presence protects him from beasts and monsters and bandits and keeps him fed on fresh game between towns when they make their camps beneath the stars. And though Geralt’s never mentioned it, he can tell he’s come to appreciate Jaskier’s contributions, too: he sets up camp and builds a fire while Geralt hunts when they stay in the country, procures rooms with less humiliation and rarer downright refusals from rude innkeeps and for significantly less coin when they stay in the village. Noticing Jaskier’s penchant for picking wildflowers on the roadside, Geralt’s even started teaching him the herbs, flowers and berries he needs for his potions.

Traveling together does have its drawbacks, of course, particularly Geralt’s reticence to stay within the confines of civilization. He’s perfectly content to go weeks without sleeping in an inn if the town doesn’t have any contracts available, wont to ride away from perfectly good villages where Jaskier would be able to find perfectly good lovers.

This came to a head a few weeks ago. Jaskier tried to settle on the lumpy ground for the night, tried to ignore that prickling restlessness beneath his skin, but he couldn’t will it away, couldn’t force himself into a fitful sleep like he had the past several nights. He tossed again, unable to stifle a sigh, when the witcher rolled onto his side to glare at him.

“Would you stop your fussing?”

“Fussing? I’m not fussing, Geralt, I can’t sleep.”

“Can’t you not sleep quietly?”

He snorted. “What a very stupid question. Weren’t you just saying yesterday that I don’t even think quietly?” Tired and frustrated and horny as all hell, Jaskier opted for the truth. Watching Geralt get that uncomfortable, vaguely constipated look he got when Jaskier talked about sex always provided an amusing distraction, at least. He sighed melodramatically, adopting a most put-upon voice. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve indulged in the wondrous carnalities of a companion, Geralt?”

“Don’t really care.”

“Ages, Geralt, it’s been ages. At least a week. Some may bear the cruelties of celibacy with stoic fortitude, my dear witcher, but alas, some of us simply are not so equipped. We really should stop in the next village. It’d do us both a world of good to sleep in a bed, particularly one that’s warm, if you get my drift.”

The witcher looked at him with that inscrutable expression. “Plenty of chances for you to get your dick wet once we reach Gors Velen.”

Jaskier darted up, horrified, all pretensions forgotten. “Gors Velen?” he whined. “You said yourself we’re still a month away from Gors Velen!”

Geralt shrugged. “You’ve got a hand.” With that, he turned his back to Jaskier.

And well. It had been Geralt’s suggestion, after all, and Jaskier may have many attributes to his credit and otherwise but shyness has never been counted among them. And if perhaps he put on a bit of a show, fucking up into his hand with a little more bitten-lip moaning, a little more breathless panting than was strictly necessary, well, it served Geralt right for brushing off his perfectly legitimate concerns so rudely. And if he came particularly hard with a surprised gasp that was all too genuine when he shot a glance at his companion and saw the witcher facing him again, perfectly still, with an intent, impenetrable expression that Jaskier thought looked almost intrigued, well, that served Geralt right, too.

And that’s how this thing with Geralt started.

The next night, Jaskier made no such fuss when he laid down atop his bedroll, brazenly pulling his cock from his smallclothes and stroking himself languidly as he met that golden stare with something akin to a challenge. “You too?” he asked, breathless, and moaned as he watched Geralt’s hand drift down to palm himself through the rough cotton.

A few nights later Jaskier laid out their bedrolls side by side, not touching but nearly. “It’s not quite fair, is it,” he explained, rolling his balls indulgently with one hand as he set a lazy pace with the other. “You with your extraordinary superhuman witchery senses, you get to hear every little noise I make, see every little expression on my devilishly handsome face from all the way across the fire. Seems like we ought to level the playing field, as it were.”

“Don’t need witcher senses to hear you,” Geralt groused, but the corner of his lip crooked in what could only be the hint of a grin as he settled in beside him without protest, taking himself in hand and echoing Jaskier’s tempo.

(Geralt can maintain his blank expression fairly well while getting off, Jaskier knows now, but he’s slightly less guarded when it comes to sound, to the noises too soft and unintentional to be noticed without such proximity. The little hitch when he twists his wrist just so at the head; the low rumbling of a moan in his chest that never reaches his lips when he’s close, so close; the voiceless exhale when he comes that sometimes, when it’s really good, sounds as though it’s been punched out of him; the abortive, shuddering breaths as his strokes turn into the gentlest trailing of the fingertips down his shaft just past the point of oversensitivity, prolonging that sweet touch until it can no longer be endured.)

The next night, well. A hand’s a hand, and there’s not so very much difference between wanking and assisting your very best friend in the whole wide world wanking, really.

And that’s what this is. Jaskier has no grandiose romantic notions, not about this, not really. It’s not about the passionate heat of bodies entwined, it’s just hands and cocks to aid with sleep and that’s all it has to be. This thing with Geralt is about getting off, not about sex, and he’s not entirely sure he understands this arbitrary boundary he’s constructed but the distinction feels crucial nevertheless. It’s a matter of convenience, not lust. Jaskier is content with this arrangement. It’s more than he ever hoped to experience with his lovely, taciturn friend, and that’s enough. He can enjoy these encounters with Geralt without needing them, without craving something more, without deluding himself into thinking they’re...something else. Paramours. Lovers.

Anyway, this was all going swimmingly until Geralt throttled a man on his behalf and it was the most arousing thing he’d ever witnessed. Now Jaskier is pressed up against him on a horse riding from a town in which they are no longer welcome with what has got to be the most obnoxiously persistent erection of his life because he can’t stop imagining those hands around his throat.

“Whoa, Roach.” Jaskier feels the witcher’s body tense against him as he pulls on the reins, halting as they approach a small copse of trees. “This’ll do.” He dismounts gracefully and Jaskier scrambles behind.

He’d assumed that Geralt would be furious that they’d finally stopped at an inn only for Jaskier’s uncanny ability to find himself in trouble got them ousted, but he doesn’t seem furious as they set up the campsite. Not that he says anything, of course, and not that he would say anything if he were furious, but Jaskier has grown rather accustomed to reading Geralt’s silences. This particular silence doesn’t seem to be perturbed in any way. If anything, it almost seems amused. Surely he’s misreading something.

He’s just finished situating the bedrolls when he turns around and nearly slams into Geralt. “Bloody hell Geralt, are you trying to...oh.”

Geralt unceremoniously tugs the bow fastening Jaskier’s trousers loose, reaching into them and immediately setting to work with a sure, steady hand.

“...oh, you’re trying to...that.” He closes his eyes at the sensation.

Geralt’s hand stills, gripping him lightly. “Will I get some rest if we don’t?” His face remains impassive as ever, but there’s something in his grumble that Jaskier could almost swear sounds teasing, fond. “Rather deal with you now than listen to you toss about and whine for an hour pretending you’re trying to sleep.”

And Jaskier could protest because honestly, he hasn’t since that first night, but he allows it, lets Geralt have his excuse because something’s different tonight. They never touch until they’ve undressed and settled into their bedrolls for the night. It’s just a part of the routine.

Nothing about this feels routine.

He lets out a laugh that’s a bit higher than he intends as Geralt resumes fisting his cock. “My, my, someone’s eager tonight,” he breathes, and all right, he may have no room to talk, but Geralt initiating this is beyond uncharacteristic.

A hum resonates deep in his chest. “Felt you rubbing up on me since we left town. You’re not subtle, bard.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not…subtle? Fuck.”

The witcher rolls his eyes. “Smelled you before that,” and honestly, fuck Geralt for wanting to have a conversation all of a sudden now that Jaskier’s completely incapable of it, “back in the tavern. What was it?” Geralt is shifting them, guiding him carefully, his hand never losing its rhythm, until Jaskier feels the trunk of a sturdy oak at his back. “What got you so hard in the middle of a bar fight?”

A knee slips casually between his legs, and the hard line of Geralt’s still-clothed cock presses against his hip, rutting ever so gently. “Gods, Geralt.” It comes out a whine, and Jaskier’s sure he’ll hate himself later for how easily he’s undone but now there’s just contact, so much touch all over and hot breath against his neck and he lets his eyes flutter closed, lets himself feel.

“Did you actually fuck that man’s wife earlier? While I was at the armourer’s, maybe? Did she leave you with some good memories?”

It takes a second for Jaskier to catch up to the question with Geralt’s hard body leaned against him, a delightful weight. Right. Man in the bar. Implied he’d cuckolded him, that’s what determined the course of this whole bizarre evening.

“Or was it the barmaid? Was she what distracted you in the middle of that scene you caused?” Geralt sounds perfectly unaffected, somehow, that mild, ribbing tone he uses when he pretends to scoff at Jaskier’s antics. “The redhead. The one whose bed you hoped to be in tonight.”

And he’s right, of all the people in the crowded tavern she’d been the one who caught his eye, the one he’d be planning to direct his next song to. Of course Geralt had noticed. Geralt knows what Jaskier wants. Knows what he needs.

And that’s...that’s what this is, that’s what he’s doing. Jaskier had planned to find a lover for the evening, planned to slip into a blissful haze of fucking where he doesn’t have to concentrate on keeping this unwelcome longing at bay and even though it’s Jaskier’s own fault that opportunity slipped through his fingers, Geralt wants to give him some semblance of that release. It’s why he’s talking, why he’s bringing up these women he assumes drove Jaskier to distraction.

And with Geralt’s breath on his skin and hand on his cock and body leaned so heavily against his, Jaskier wants to give him an answer. Wants to give him everything there is.

What got you so hard in the middle of a bar fight?

Jaskier grasps the hand not stroking his cock and brings it to his throat.

The world stops.

His eyes fly open to meet Geralt’s, and he knows he’s made a mistake. The witcher withdraws quickly, stepping away, turning his back.

“Fuck, Geralt, no, I’m—”

“Stop.” Geralt doesn’t face him, but he’s not leaving, at least. “Don’t.”

Jaskier leans back against the tree, trying to catch his breath. He scrubs his hand over his face. Leave it to Jaskier to fuck up something this divine.

He watches those broad shoulders lower, his breathing even out, but the tension is still written in every line of his body. Geralt stands silent for a moment before he quietly asks, “That’s what...at the tavern?”

Wretched, Jaskier nods, but of course Geralt can’t see that, so he stammers out, “Ah, yes. It seems so.”

When he speaks again, his voice remains carefully flat. “You were afraid of me?”

“What?”

“Were you afraid of me? Back at the tavern.” He considers, then adds, “Or now?”

“Geralt, no,” and maybe he shouldn’t, maybe he should give him space, but Jaskier pushes away from the tree, scurrying over to him and clutching his shoulders frantically. “No, listen to me, Geralt, I’m a horny idiot, that’s the thing, it was just...I don’t know, it was sexy! It was sexy, seeing you manhandle him, imagining if you manhandled me, maybe, with your gloves and your hands and your muscles, I don’t know, it was just a fantasy, I suppose, it just happened, but certainly not because I was scared you’d hurt me.” An ugly, desperate laugh rises from his throat unbidden. “If anything it’s because I know you wouldn’t, Geralt, I know you’d keep me safe.”

The witcher looks past him, but Jaskier sees the tension in his jaw release, sees his chest move a little more freely with his breath. After a moment, Geralt nods. “Thought perhaps I’d misread this.” It’s low, almost too low to hear.

“I want you,” Jaskier blurts out, and he should stop talking, he really means to stop talking, “I want you. Quite a lot. The rough, ah, the choking thing, that’s all just...I don’t need that. Don’t want anything you don’t want.”

It’s all a little too raw, a little too genuine, and Jaskier realizes with a sudden sinking feeling that this may actually be worse than his initial blunder, that an unexpected predilection for rough sex is one thing but voicing that longing he’s worked so hard to keep sectioned away is something else entirely.

He’s about to apologize when he hears the low hum.

Geralt is studying him, head tilted to one side. There’s nothing on his face to indicate disgust or excitement, no rejection or acceptance; just those golden eyes meticulously examining him, just like they had that first night. Curious. Intrigued.

Fuck. Jaskier doesn’t need a hand on his throat to make it hard to breathe.

“No gloves.”

“Sorry, what?”

Rough fingertips map his throat lightly, not pressing, not caressing, just exploring. Jaskier recognizes this look, it’s the same studious evaluation he’d seen Geralt give that nekker corpse yesterday before he began harvesting organs from it and that should definitely kill the mood here but it doesn’t. He pauses, wide finger resting over a thunderous artery. “They’re too thick. Wouldn’t be able to feel if it’s too much.”

“Right,” Jaskier rasps out. “Right, yeah, good. No gloves is good.” And if the image of being thrown about like a ragdoll and forced against a wall had seemed erotic, it somehow doesn’t compare to the overwhelming potency of these careful, analytical touches with Geralt monitoring his breath, his heartbeat, his face.

“Do you still want to try?” It’s a low rumble, but Geralt’s eyes are boring into him and all Jaskier can do is nod aggressively, grabbing Geralt’s hand and pulling him back until he’s leaned against the tree again, pausing only to fling off his open doublet.

Geralt shakes his head, quickly disciplining the little entertained smile that flits across his features but not before Jaskier sees it. It sends a reckless, euphoric thrill through his whole body. “Ah Geralt, admit it, you think I’m endearing,” he grins, striking a dramatic pose against the tree.

“You’re a nuisance,” he snorts, but he snakes his hand down the front of the bard’s trousers again, stroking him with just enough pressure to coax him back to hardness.

Jaskier rocks gently into his fist, a small contented sigh morphing into something much more ragged when he feels that solid hand back on his throat.

“Tap my arm if you want to stop.”

Jaskier nods, delighting in the way his flesh shifts under Geralt’s hand at the motion. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the fingers tighten. “Good?”

“Good.”

“More?”

“Please,” and it’s a whine but he doesn’t care. His eyes drift shut. It feels like the pounding pulse is flowing straight from his throat into Geralt’s hand, or maybe the other way around, it doesn’t matter when all he wants is to lose himself in this swelling, living tattoo.

The pressure lets up and there’s a rush, a bright heady flood of exhilaration and he can feel every cell tingling in his body as his lungs work overtime to compensate and he can’t help thrusting forward faster into the tight fist on his cock.

Geralt’s other hand stays in place, loosely cupping his throat, idly stroking the skin. “Eyes open,” he murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of Jaskier’s neck for just a moment, breathing him in, his own breath labored. When he pulls back he looks a little wrecked. “Eyes on me, yeah?”

Jaskier nods, leaning into both warm hands a little desperately. “More?”

Geralt groans as he applies careful, steady pressure.

It’s good. There’s something soothing about the gentle acceleration of that drumming, far-off and immediate at the same time, the only sound that exists here. Peaceful. Floaty, almost. He wonders vaguely if this is what Geralt feels when he meditates.

“Jaskier.” The voice cuts through the haze, low but firm, the softest command. He focuses on Geralt, that unwavering gaze fixed on him. “Stay with me.”

Where else would he want to be?

And he’s still floating but somehow those golden eyes are a tether, not grounding him entirely but keeping him from drifting away. And when the tension releases and the tidal wave of elation sweeps through him again it’s met with chapped lips on his throat and fingers scratching through the hair at the nape of his neck and a steadying weight against him, and when the dizziness settles and he rests against the reassuring stability of the oak behind him, then there’s shifting, moving, the harsh grinding voice asking a question Jaskier can’t make out but understands anyway, golden eyes full of that question staring up at him and Jaskier answers by threading his fingers through pale locks shining silver in the moonlight and the warm, strong hand stroking him is replaced with the soft heat of Geralt’s mouth.

He won’t last much longer, not with the way Geralt’s thick fingers grip him, digging into the meat of his ass, with the way he chokes a little taking Jaskier all the way down but keeps pulling him in, deeper, and it’s wet and messy and a little too divine.

“Fuck, Geralt, I…” he gasps, the closest to a warning he can formulate, but the witcher’s staring up at him through dark lashes and sucking him down harder and Jaskier surrenders, coming with a keening cry.

Geralt diligently works him through it, swallowing and dissolving into desperate noises around Jaskier as he feverishly strips his own cock. He releases Jaskier and buries his head in the crook of the bard’s hip, shoulders heaving harshly. Jaskier pets him soothingly, long fingers massaging his scalp tenderly through the broken moan, the shuddering aftershocks, the shallow breaths slowly evening out.

They stay that way for a few endless moments, neither willing to break the trance, the intimacy. Jaskier barely notices gentle fingers unlacing his boots, pulling off one then the other. Geralt deftly tucks the bard’s softening cock back into his smallclothes before carefully pulling off his trousers and folding them neatly. He stands slowly, guiding Jaskier to his bedroll and settling him there, crouching beside him moments later with a waterskin he presses to Jaskier’s lips.

“Best take care, witcher,” Jaskier teases softly, “a man could get used to such treatment.”

“Don’t,” Geralt grunts, but there’s no heat to it. He thoroughly inspects Jaskier’s neck, tilting his head one way then the other with two light fingers on his jaw. “Pain anywhere?”

“No pain.”

“Good.” Apparently satisfied, Geralt stands, undressing methodically and lying in his own bedroll. After a few moments of silence, he adds, “Wake me if anything hurts. Or if you have trouble breathing.”

Jaskier huffs a laugh, turning on his side to fix his companion with a rueful smile. “Geralt, have you ever known me to suffer in silence?” Those inscrutable eyes hold him, searching, so Jaskier reaches a tentative hand to his jaw. “Thank you. For your...indulgence.” There’s an entirely different tightness in his throat, suddenly. “For taking such good care of me.”

For a moment, Jaskier thinks Geralt may answer as he watches something unguarded yet still utterly indecipherable flit across the witcher’s scarred, handsome face. When he speaks, there’s something soothing in the low rumble. “Get some sleep, bard.”

And he does.

[robotslenderman]

Idea: Stasya decides to prank Evie as revenge for all the pranks she's pulled. What's her plan and how does it go?

First she consults with Sullivan:

Nastasya: So hey, Evie was a kid when she was Embraced, yeah?

Sullivan: *Looks at Stasya like she's an idiot*

Nastasya: Does she still CONSIDER herself a kid?

Sullivan: When it serves her, yeah. She likes to lull people into a false sense of security with her "I am baby" act.

Sullivan: Seriously though, she had a rough childhood and I think rather than being upset she'll never get older, she's happy to have a second one she'll never leave. A lot of people Embraced at that age are close enough that they consider themselves adults after a while but I don't think that's the case with Evie. So let's assume yes. Why?

Nastasya: I was just wondering if it would be inappropriate to drop her into a pit of dicks, that's all. I want to get my own back and my pranks tend to be en-ess-eff-doubleyoo.

Sullivan: My gut tells me she'd think it was funny, but I tend to get the sense with Evie that it's better to play it safe. Especially if the dicks are squirming. Like they tend to be when you're involved.

Nastasya: o7 Got it.

So I KNOW this question meant Evie, but this turned into a prank on Beckett put on as a show for Evie (both figuratively and literally). Hopefully that still counts lol. There is another prank at the bottom tho which is on both of them!

She ultimately decides to prank Evie by going for Beckett himself. She approaches everyone that Beckett's ever pissed off uh, some of the people who Beckett's ever pissed off because I don't think even Nastasya has that much free time, and goes, "hey, want to help me play a prank with Beckett?"

"What's in it for me?"

"I will do it as a favour to you."

Naturally the answer is a unanimous "fuck yes."

In Maddyverse, this takes place after BJD and therefore post-Dracon, but before Sascha and Beckett become friends. (I don't know if Sascha and Beckett ever become friends in Evieverse but I'm sure this could happen there too.) So Sascha's not talking regularly (if at all) with Stasya either, but they get wind of what's going on and offers to be bait, which Stasya gladly (if a bit warily) accepts in exchange for free access to one of her journals.

Nastasya: which journal.

Sascha: whichever one has information on *me*.

Nastasya:... not to be an embarrassing stalker on main -

Sascha: You've always BEEN a stalker on main.

Nastasya: but I've got like. Eight of those.

Sascha: ugh. I skim through all of them and choose one, then. Deal?

Nastasya: Deal.

So one night, Beckett learns that Sascha is going after a Gehenna-related artefact. Naturally, his response to that is "oh no you DON'T" and picks up the trail and races to catch up.

Once Sascha is aware Beckett is on their trail, they "accidentally" lead him to the beginning of the chain then drop back, grab the popcorn, and watch.

So Beckett ends up visiting a lot of people from Beckett's Jyhad Diaries, who are like, ohhh, you just missed it, I just found out that X is involved! and sends Beckett further down the chain. Every time Beckett appears to lose interest and chase after something else (he tends to do that in BJD), Sascha just casually dips back in to increase the sense of urgency.

But then it gets weird: it becomes apparent that Evie actually has the artefact and is slowly making her way through Beckett's contacts on some kind of misadventure. The story appears to be that Evie stole the artefact from Beckett, and is now appealing to people she knows Beckett's pissed off for help to hide from him and sharing blackmail materials along the way. The "blackmail materials" are videos of Beckett being really silly -- dancing with underwear on his head, casually filming an entire parody of a Rick Roll where he's the star, reciting memes in a cringy context, waxing lyrical about Dracula, replacing the Screaming Cowboy in that one meme, etc. The contacts all know the videos are fake, but they pretend to take them seriously and there's a few running gags of "hey, Beckett, there's a production of Dracula that'll debut in Edinburgh where I hear the actor playing Dracula is very attractive!"

(I'm sure by now Evie will have caught on to what's going on. Beckett will realise Vicissitude's involved, especially as Evie's been by his side the whole time so he knew all along it wasn't her. also because he definitely did not star in any embarrassing videos. Nastasya is hoping by this point that Evie keeps going along for the ride instead of telling Beckett what it is.)

The treasure trail leads to the final dress rehearsal of the production of Dracula that Beckett's contacts have been joking about the whole time, which is being treated as the production itself, but with a friends-and-family audience before the debut. Beckett's assured that one of the actors is a ghoul of the vampire responsible and has the artefact in their possession. They end up with two free tickets and are encouraged to watch the show and wait to investigate until after the play is concluded. Beckett, naturally, would rather spend this time backstage picking on actors but maybe Evie encourages him to watch the show first, maybe she doesn't. Either way, they'll quickly notice that the cast has been a bit genderbent -- Van Hellsing is now a woman that looks rather a bit like Evie, and Mina is now a man that looks a lot like Beckett. There is a lot of homoeroticism between Dracula and "Beckett". Like a LOT.

After they go backstage after the show they find "Evie", who makes a big deal out of "protecting the artefact" in her arms. Eventually Evie and Beckett wrangle it out of her, and she disappears.

It's a book. Specifically, it's a hardcover copy of Dracula. It's been embossed with gold leaf and rebound into a fancy leather cover, but it's definitely Dracula.

It's signed by Beckett. It has a letter inside the cover.

Dear Evie,

I wanted to get you back for all the Beckett-related pranks, but Sullivan veto'd my idea of dropping you in a pit of dicks, so I thought I'd play one on Beckett for you instead. I hope you enjoyed the show. I certainly enjoyed arranging it. The actors are stand ins - sadly the real run will have a "proper" Mina and Van Hellsing. Absolute tragedy and a waste, I say.

Oh, and, enjoy the gift. No matter what Beckett says, he absolutely signed it. I was the one who asked him to, even if he didn't recognise me at the time. I've been waiting to spring this on him for years.

Love,

Auntie Stasya

xoxoxo

PS -- They were all in it. Do remind Beckett that it's wise not to anger everyone he meets. I managed to cultivate quite a few favours just for the opportunity to fuck with Cuthbert Beckett. I hear some of the Kindred I roped into it showed up to the performance.

Nastasya probably doesn't see Evie that often - Sullivan mostly works on the west coast, though I'm sure he brings Evie whenever he needs to travel if she's not with Kara or Beckett - but she is genuinely fond of her "niece" and finds her pranks hilarious, even when they're at her own expense.

I'm sure at some point or other, when she and Beckett are on actually friendly terms, she'll play a prank on Evie herself. She and her coterie fleshcraft themselves to look like Beckett while they're in NYC, and when Beckett briefly steps out for whatever reason, a fake Beckett comes back and wanders off with Evie, first starting subtle then slowly acting more ridiculous until it's obvious it's a fake Beckett. At which point they track down the "real" Beckett (it's another fake) who gets offended at this prank... rinse and repeat until the real Beckett actually shows up (he got distracted with a fake Evie) and they're being followed around by 3-6 Becketts (depending on whether or not Ilias, Sascha and Sullivan are available/want to get involved. Possibly 7 Becketts if Rose joins in - I think having ONE Beckett who looks exactly the same as the others but obviously hiding her forehead would be hilarious - or even 8 if Evie uses her Chimerstry) all claiming they're the real one and "clearly this is a sign of Gehenna!" no this is not based on the prank the squad once played on Jan Pieterzoon at a convention.

[jiantan]

Operation: Cheer Up Buddy || Jian & Minjoon

When: May 7, 2021

Where: Jian’s apartment, Santa Monica, California

Featuring: Minjoon Song (dialogue provided by Katie @minjoonie-song) 

Triggers: Drunkenness 

Joonie dropped his phone on the couch where he’d been laying around after Jian’s last text, making a checklist of things as he dove head first into Operation: Cheer Up Jian. Hm. Scratch that. Operation: Cheer Up Buddy. Code name: CUB. During his internal rambling, that admittedly did make him smile, Joonie grabbed one of his favourite blankets and threw it into the dryer to make sure it was warm when he took it over. After steps two, three and four of his amazing plan; put on pants, gather food and get the blanket out, Joonie was using his foot to knock on Jian’s door, hugging the blanket to keep it as toasty as possible.

Jian was laying on the floor of his living room, three drinks in. Who would’ve thought Mike’s Hard Lemonade would actually taste good? Not Jian. His co-worker Stanley was right. But now Jian was drunk and thinking about his ex. He remembered that he was dumped by the person he thought was his soulmate two years ago to the date and had to throw himself a pity party to celebrate. As he heard a knock on the door, he groaned and rolled around before getting up and answering. “Minjoon, hi...” he said, realizing in that moment that he was wearing Christmas penguin pajama pants.

Joonie greeted Jian with a smile and a quiet hi as he set down the picnic basket so he could drape the blanket over his shoulders.  “Warm and soft always makes me feel better.” Minjoon smiled, retrieving the basket again and patting the lid lightly. “Food too. I brought things to make you either the best mushroom risotto you’ll ever eat ever or the best pizza bagels you’ll ever eat. Depends on how soon you feel up to eating.”

He blinked at Minjoon in confusion, almost forgetting about the texts he had sent not long ago. “I, uh, I’ve never had pizza bagels before,” he admitted. His parents considered it to be junk food, and they never kept much junk food in the house. As an adult, Jian internalized their lessons about healthy eating, but he occasionally went to drive-thrus after long days at work. “Have you ever had Mike’s Hard Lemonade before? My co-worker said it was tasty and I didn’t believe him, but it does taste like lemonade!” He snuggled up in the blanket, bringing it closer to his face. “This smells nice.”

“Pizza bagels it is! And they’ll be the yummiest you’ll ever eat ever and they’ll ruin all other pizza bagels for you forever.” Minjoon nodded confidently. He may have been biased, considering he’d made both the bagels and the sauce he brought over. “Um.. nope. I can’t say I have. I like making cocktails because it’s about flavours and that’s like my one skill. I mostly like wine though because of how well it pairs with food and I love food so that’s mostly what I drink if I’m at home or a friends.” He felt his face flush when Jian commented on the blanket. “Ah, that’s my uh.. I have a pillow mist? It’s lavender, jasmine and sandalwood. I put it on my blankets too because it’s supposed to be soothing.”

“Oh. I guess I’m trying new things today.” He was genuinely interested to see how this would turn out. “I don’t like too many alcohols because of the taste. I liked the cocktails you made that one time because they tasted like fruits. Every beer I’ve ever tried tasted like wet bread. I think I tried wine once and didn’t like it.” Most of his alcohol-based misadventures occurred during college. He tried a bunch of different things but disliked most of them. “Your pillow mist is nice. You’re nice.”

“You’ll have fun, I promise. If not fun, you’ll at least have a full tummy.” Joonie put his hand on Jian’s shoulder to guide him back slightly and let himself in so he could close the door behind himself. “We don’t want the little ones escaping. Ollie, really. Reggie will probably take some time but better safe than sorry.” Minjoon could only nod in agreement at the opinion on the drinks. “Yeah, I’m not really a beer drinker. I don’t really like it but cocktails that don’t taste like alcohol are the best. Except for the fact that you can just drink them like juice and get drunker than you want to. Do you really like it? I can get you some.”

"Having a full tummy is a good idea. I didn't eat dinner yet." He didn't have any plans for dinner and was most likely going to eat leftovers before Joonie arrived. "Reggie is in his tank. I'm not sure where Ollie is. He's probably asleep on my bed. Or in my laundry hamper." If he was awake, he would have already darted for the door. "I don't think I need any more alcohol. I'll just become more sad." Too much alcohol made him sad and he never figured out how to fix that.

“This won’t come as a surprise but I’m full of good ideas when it comes to food. Mostly because my ideas just involve eating and that’s always a good idea.” Joonie nodded when Jian explained where the pets were, not quite sure where Jian’s room or the hamper was so he couldn’t try and peek to wave at Ollie. “No, I don’t think you should drink any more unless it water or juice.” He paused slightly, looking at the bags he brought before he set them down where he stood and opened his arms. “Do you want a hug?”

"You do love food... I don't mean that as a bad thing. Just an observation. You make good food and you have good taste." The last thing Jian wanted was for Joonie to think he was insulting his weight or eating habits. When asked whether he wanted a hug, he hesitated. He knew a hug would feel very nice and comforting right now, but he was afraid he'd start crying if he was hugged. He didn't want to be perceived as a pathetic baby, even though he felt like one on the inside. After a moment of silence, he caved in, burying his face in his friend's shoulder.

“I really do. It’s always been that um.. Like a constant? It’s always been a source of comfort for me.” He wrapped Jian up in a hug when the other leaned into it, his crooked fingers stroking the hair at the nape of his neck before he was massaging it the way that always helped soothe him. “I’ve got you.”

“My computer and my gaming consoles have been my source of comfort since I was young. If I feel lonely or sad, I can play a game and become someone else for a little while.” As soon as he finished saying his thought aloud, he realized just how sad it sounded. He thought to himself, ’I really am pathetic.’ He took a few deep breaths, trying to keep it together as his friend touched his hair, until he finally snapped and started crying into Minjoon’s shoulder.

“That’s the same for everyone, isn’t it? Why we have so many games where we’re the hero? Where at the end of it, we’re the ones who save the day and everything is okay.” He hoped his reassurance came across as exactly that, a reassurance, and not him trying to invalidate Jian’s feeling of comfort. Joonie understood how hard it can be to open up, to spill secrets no matter how big or small. He wrapped his arms tighter around Jian, rest his chin on his shoulder and held him closer; another quiet “I’ve got you.” leaving him.

“I— I guess so. I haven’t put too much thought into it.” He wanted to be able to save the day and make everything okay in his own life, but he didn’t even think he was the main character of his story. If anything, he was the villain who ruined everything. “Why are you so nice?” he mumbled, squeezing Joonie even tighter.

“And that’s okay too. Not everything has to have a reason, you can enjoy things simply because they’re enjoyable.” Minjoon spoke softly, trying to be as gentle as possible with Jian so he knew he was in a safe space. “I’m not so nice, I’m Minjoon.” Even with the joke, he kept his voice light but still, the corners of his lips curled up slightly in amusement at himself as he squeezed back.

Jian sniffled, asking, “Like Animal Crossing?” He truly did play Animal Crossing just for the sake of playing it. There was no winning or losing in that game, just colorful animals. “No, but you really are a nice person. I don’t know what I did to deserve a nice friend like you.”